(no subject)

We had been five days waiting by the southern river system. The base camp was being fenced off with thick cables by perspiring soldiers. I picked up a long-barrelled rifle, bullets, and quinine tablets from the nutritional facilities tent, and walked a mile or two from camp to an overlook. The plains and forests waited below me. We were coming into the long summer: they would soon be dry as timber, and at night, if there were clouds, we might see a red underglow.

...

A little while after I get off the 250 bus, the bus in the other direction comes by. It's not immediate, but I usually wait at the stop for a couple minutes (because I am crazy.) So, I wave to the bus all the time as it goes by. Today I waved, same as I always do, but this time the bus driver honked the horn at me! Pnk pnk. It was as if I lived in a small town, mang.

Although, in my heart I blushed faintly: I wonder what the other people on the bus thought?