"A woman was breathless over me this morning.
For three hours she was breathless.
She had to stitch my skull closed again, and she was breathless.
I told her I appreciated it very much.
I looked into her face, and do you know what. She was beautiful.
Do you want to know what she said to me.
She said to me she never wanted to see me again.
In a good way.
She meant she never wanted to have to stitch up my skull again.
She was breathless for three hours as she sewed up my skull."
On the bus home this evening, there was a middle aged man sipping on a can of Druids. As the journey progressed, he began to talk to himself. It sounded like a sort of poetry, or rap. The bus driver apologised on the way out, for what we endured. To be honest, I kind of enjoyed listening to him.
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