No.38 Bench Seat

Early evening, saturday night on the way to see House of the Flying Daggers, we sat on the bench seats of the routemaster on the 38 bus.

Opposite was a middle-aged couple off to the theatre - dressed up as is the custom of this age group. He was a serene looking man in a good suit and the palest pink shirt. She was glamorous in maroon velvet and a scarf wtih silk tassles. She was totally fabulous apart from her cheap looking gold open toed sandals worn with flesh-toned tights with the toe seams showing.

Next to them was a man wearing trendy attire - jeans and trainers. He had a face that was full of sorrow and yet seemed friendly at the same time. Hang dog eyes and a mouth that turned down. But the faintest flicker of a smile made him seem appraochable and loveable in a sorrowful way. Bald on top but longish side and back hair. A clown. He had the face of a sorrowful clown. The type who wears a cross over his eyes and a big red mouth.

I wonder if the whole world is really here to entertain me or if my imagination is over-active.