One by one they descended, babes in arms, wide-eyed toddlers and elders resigned to their conductor’s order. The bridge ahead, too unstable to bear the weight of the bus and its roof-bulged load, had demanded disgorgement. So they spilled off, ant-file, feeling their way to the side pre-dawn had concealed. The driver turned on the empty-shell engine. His headlights picked out each shadow as he passed - temporary flashes of fleeting colour. Headscarves, wraps and infants on backs.
And crack.
No-one could swim. One by one they descended, babes in arms, wide-eyed toddlers and elders resigned to their conductor’s order.
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