Small Pleasures

Virtual commute image courtesy Mr Google

Look for small pleasures
That happen every day;
And not for fortune or fame.

Popular song

Home working sucks.

When things are back to normal:

I will step out at an unearthly hour every weekday and appreciate the relative calm.

I will signal for the bus and not be annoyed by anyone who sticks their arm out at the same time, but is not standing at the Officially Sanctioned Stopping Point.

I will make my way to the top deck, sit in my usual seat and think to myself, ‘Blimey, even after all these years, IT’S BLOODY BRILLIANT SITTING ON THE TOP DECK OF A DOUBLE-DECKER BUS’.

I will watch my fellow commuters board with interest and enjoy sharing this enclosed space with them for the first time in an age.

As the bus draws towards the city centre, I will appreciate my home city anew – its architecture, its vitality and its homeliness.

As the bus draws to a stop, I will wait for everyone else to get off first, before emerging into the fresh air, walking along Milton Street and acknowledging the chap dispensing copies of the Metro.

Turning into Parliament Street, I will appreciate the joie de vivre of the school kids waiting for their onward connections, before crossing the road at a place that is Not an Officially Sanctioned Crossing Point. Divine retribution will catch up with me when I descend into – then trip over the top of – one of the trenches created in the tarmac over the years by the passing buses.

Walking past buildings I’ve walked past thousands of times before, but not since lockdown, I will be hit by a pleasant wave of nostalgia, before this sensation is replaced by thoughts of the MASSIVE breakfast cob I am going to order when I arrive at Mary’s Kitchen (please God, let Mary’s Kitchen have survived all this nonsense).

When I finally arrive at work, I will be in a Zen-like state of mind.

My renewed appreciation of the 40 minutes detailed above may even last for a few days.

Image courtesy Google

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