The yellow bus.
Operated by Jimmy's.
Printed in Old English typography on the side.
Actually, I think the service is operated by people with old italian bloodlines rather than English ones.
Jimmy who? You talking to me?
Well, I can't care less as long as they act and drive responsibly.
The bus.
Yellow.
Yes.
Obviously.
Approaching the spot where my youngest son gets on.
Most mornings. The bus is there every morning.
My son isn't.
He calls it schoolistis.
Boredom, is my word for it.
So, I let him play hooky now and then.
Actually, he's great at school.
Just don't like it that much.
Kind of bored.
Pretty good though. Scores among the top 5%.
so no complaints form my side.
I was worse. Much worse.
And I still managed to make kids.
Quite pretty in that corner today.
Nice light.
Well, it's not always.
I kind of of think of it as this gray corner really.
Windy. Cold.
Oh, the last five months have been winter.
Guess it's just the bloody weather that influences me there.
Although, I was never that happy going to school. Weather or no weather.
Bad or good.
Nice light or not.
As you've aleady figured.
Which is just like the way you felt about it. I'm sure.
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