After a couple of weeks involving a lot of travelling, I returned to the pueblo late on Monday. Then I had to leave again on Wednesday and make a quick trip to Scotland for a meeting. Which entailed leaving the house on Wedesday morning and going by car, bus, metro, plane, taxi, taxi, shuttle bus, plane, taxi, taxi, taxi, plane, plane, taxi, taxi, bus and car, and getting back here at lunchtime today, fifty hours later.

For reasons which may be understandable, I was half asleep this morning on the bus back to the village. I realised just how dozy I was, though, when it lumbered over a speed bump and I woke up thinking – “goodness! Have we landed already?”

Having woken up, I started looking around and noticed this sign on the window behind the driver:

Which is all very well, but there were no seatbelts to wear.

I think perhaps the best thing about the sign, though, is the marvellous brand name: Fecalbus. I know the local bus company isn’t brilliant, but I didn’t think it was that bad.

Author: don't confuse the narrator

Exploring the boundary between writer and narrator through first person poetry, prose and opinion

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