Simply Dead.

After six months paid sick leave, Rachid was getting into his country route. Most of his passangers on his number 13 bus were OAP's going to do their shopping. Rachid had become more calm and relaxed in his work. But anyway, that's for later.

Two days ago I picked Mrs. Simpleton up at 10:00. She seemed to look forward to our outing. For someone sitting in a wheelchair she was very animated, arms flailing and screaming about monkeys. We were just outside the nursing home when she said loudly, " Where are we going today? The zoo, to the pub or the whorehouse?"
" I thought we might go to the river today", I said.
" Are there any ducks there"?
" I believe so."
" How much do you believe."
I couldn't make out if the question came from her dementia.
" Enough to get by." I replied.

So I was pushing her in the direction of the river. We passed a few pubs but I carried on pushing her full of good intentions. I had one destination in mind. The river. Mind you, I knew a very good bar there. A quiet counry bar.

Only one more street to cross. A lane in fact. A quiet country lane. The bar was in view. There was no curb so I pushed Mrs. Simpleton out before me.

The driver of the number 13 bus was too relaxed in his new job and wasn't really paying attention. Mrs. Simpleton went flying. Two fingers of my right hand got broken.

This morning I read in the local paper that a man who was a bus driver, of Indian origin, was found strung up in his home. And so it goes.

I don't think the nursing home will be in touch again.