The last bus home is my saviour. If it were not for this humble gentlemen driving this over-sized, glass box, I would be walking. Well, I use the term "walking" loosely. I would be battling the elements, taking on Mother Nature in her raw form.
The last bus home is my nightmare. If it were not for the drunken man falling asleep, with slurred words of wisdom in his distant land, a pungent smell of alcohol (which, by the way, I served to him not forty minutes ago) and stale piss... Were it not for him, I would have had a pleasant ride on the midnight carriage.
Sleep well, Father.
The last bus home is my nightmare. If it were not for the drunken man falling asleep, with slurred words of wisdom in his distant land, a pungent smell of alcohol (which, by the way, I served to him not forty minutes ago) and stale piss... Were it not for him, I would have had a pleasant ride on the midnight carriage.
Sleep well, Father.
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