Peering into darkness

On the day: 02/04/2012 


On the way: 'Na nyah nyah-nyah na.' 
It's not a taunt, it's singing, as though by someone who doesn't know what singing is, an imitation without awareness of melody, and spat out, like a nasty taste in the mouth. 
It's coming from behind the bus stop, where the kebab shop stands in darkness at this time of the morning, its greasy come-on quiet. Not so the man standing in front of it, as he gazes down the road in search of the impending bus. 
His mouth is set in a sneer, like peering into darkness, or licking aloe. His face is creased, his hair a woolly patch of black fading to grey around his ears, ears that reveal the source of his muse - little in-ear phones. Thick black eyebrows overline scrunched-up eyes. 
He steps forward towards the shelter, blue-grey windcheater rustling, and leans forward to ascertain the number of the approaching bus. He releases a conspicuous sigh, it would appear this number is not the one he was hoping for, but it sounds like it's yet another betrayal.
Muttering, he turns on his heel, clunky booted, one sole slightly built up, one toe slightly turned in, disappointment in his gait. Perhaps not so much disappointment at the number of the bus (he will board it regardless), perhaps more at the years spent peering into darkness. 


On the pod: Like You Madly - Just Jinger 


On the front page: MPs split on whether Murdoch is 'fit' to run his empire (The Times)