Something Missing

Standing in the bus queue outside Southampton station t’other night, we were joined by a young man – mid-twenties-ish – walking with crutches. He got on the same bus as me, and was joined in his seat by a talkative elderly gent who engaged him in conversation.

From their conversation we learned that the young man had attended university in Southampton, and had graduated last year: He had to move to Kent, because that was where his work was, but his girlfriend is still here in Southampton and that’s why he’s back for a few days.

At that point his phone rang.
“Hello, yes, I’m on the bus at the moment”

“I’m not sure where this one goes…It might go up alongside…oh you know, that parade of shops in, um, oh, that road”

“Or it might turn right and go along…that road that goes…oh, you know…”

“Where am I? Hang on…going along towards, oh you know, the road where the furniture shop is”

The phone call finished, the chatty old chap asked former student what he studied at Southampton Uni.


Oh how we chuckled.

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