On The Bus

Not quite the man on the Clapham omni, but certainly being on the 63 is like gorging on a messy London cultural cake. Yummy mummies kiss their city boy-friends out the door as a rampant, buggie basher tears herself a path through hapless, unexplainably apologetic commuters, to find the safety of the back of the bus, just by the doors. Safety is assured for her and her cub, escape now impossible for all but the very lithe. But God help the man that wants to tell her so. Leave her to her deceptively character softening cooing…

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