Bus stop

Sometimes an idea for a blog post comes to me quickly and disappears just as quickly. It is as if I am standing at the bus stop, waiting to board the bus, ticket held between my fingers. Suddenly a gust of wind blows the ticket out of my hand and down the street. I take off after it, only to discover the wind has stirred up thousands, nay tens of thousands of pieces of paper of every size and shape and every colour of the rainbow. The street cleaners, it seems, are on strike. My small ticket, coloured dull blue (or was it shocking pink, or emerald green, or madder red, or …..) disappears into the chaos and is lost to sight forever. As I turn back, disconsolate, the bus has pulled out from the curb and I have missed it.