No. 149

There are two trees just outside Exit 2 of the Undeground Station near my place. They are bare except for the bright pink flowers. These flowers are impossibly pink, the pink of the office highlighter. They are perfect.

Memory 2.

The tube did not work and I had to take the bus to work, sometime last June. No need to say that the bus stop was crowded with angry and annoyed people who fought their way to the entry doors of every bus. I was waiting for something impossible – a somewhat empty bus. And then my mobile rang. Unknown +1 number. I picked up – and it was him! I don’t remember why he called – was it the text I sent him the previous evening, or the email? The thing was, he called. He was concerned and I could hear that concern even though the actual words were more or less illegible, mixed with the morning traffic noises and shouts of the angry passengers. We talked and talked and talked. I got on no. 149 bus and we talked some more. And I was happy.