Reading Nook

I had one of those public transit experiences that I don't love the other night. It wasn't that it didn't go as smoothly as it could, because it more or less did. It's just too bad that it couldn't go any better than it did. To begin with, I was going just a few miles away, but it happened to be in a bad spot. Had it been a few miles in one direction, that would have been easy, but it had to be a little bit north and then a little bit west. That effectively doubles the elapsed time of the trip.

The way home was somewhat trickier. I had to walk from my friend's house north, only I couldn't go straight north as the house lies by a dead end. I had to work my way around via a circuitous route which concluded at an intersection which was blessedly quiet. It happens to be someplace not unfamiliar with crime, and this was late at night. It was pretty dead, and I wasn't entirely sorry. The bus came quickly enough.

I had to have a connecting bus, and it wasn't so fast in coming. I took the opportunity to get some reading done. A guy ran across the street, and I wondered whether I should worry about him. He got on the phone and started complaining that his cab wasn't there, so I decided not. Also he was wearing shorts, and I figured there was no troubling coming from him, or the three other guys around who were waiting for my bus.

No, the trip really went fairly well considering, except that I didn't want to be hanging around in those places where I wasn't about to see any friends. I was tired and wary of my surroundings, and what choice had I but to read and wait? Luckily enough the book was fairly engrossing. I am getting near the end of Wuthering Heights, and I'll say that nobody around there was doing much reading, let alone anything by one of the Bronte sisters.