Fortunate

I was up at 5.30 this morning, ready, more or less, to grasp the morning and get to work on time. I took my rightful place above the driver of the 77 and whizzed into the still dark, reading a bit of Bryson and listening to a happy mix of metal :)
Dawn was just wheezing into existence, behind me as I got off the bus at Westminster bridge, and made my way across the Thames, the houses of parliament a muted silhouette before me. As I turned up Parliament Street, which becomes Whitehall, I thought to myself how very very lucky I am to be here. Here in London, here amongst friends and people that really care about me.
That I am alone in another sense, is partly of my own making, and I really shouldn't complain. But I do miss him.

My husband drives the 107 bus!