They say a watched pot never boils
but they never mention kettles. It would have been quicker if there’d been less
water, but it was tea for two. I watched in horror as the bus sped past without
me on it. I was late, for a very important date. I waited, and then three more came
at once. This was a blessing in disguise because it meant I travelled a new
route, enjoyed a change of scenery and, as my pulse slowed, I found that a
change is as good as a rest.
A lone magpie signalled sorrow;
roadworks took us to the back of beyond. When my bus got in, I hit the ground
running, resisting the temptation to look for my missing watch in my bag; I
didn’t have the time. I burst into the meeting, better late than never I
suppose, but my sweaty appearance did nothing to inspire confidence.
I locked eyes with my nemesis. I
couldn’t think why they’d hired him. Between you, me, and the gatepost, I
wouldn’t have touched him with a barge pole. Except of course he’d arrived on
time and didn’t look like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Putting
aside my irritation, I concentrated on getting through the rest of the day.
At the bus stop, heading home, it
seemed my luck had changed. A car pulled up; the window lowered. ‘His’ head
popped out and offered me a lift. Gritting my teeth, I accepted; beggars can’t
be choosers and I didn’t want to cut my nose off to spite my face. All I wanted
was to climb the wooden hill to Bedfordshire, arrive in the land of nod and put
the longest day, (the actual longest day; June 21st) behind me.
After all, tomorrow is another day.
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