Sitting in my third café of the day, pondering imaginary bus stops.
They’re different from the actual bus stops, which give themselves away by having a sign or timetable or even a shelter. These imaginary ones don’t have any of that stuff, but they work nevertheless. They’re probably on ley lines or something.
What makes them interesting is they aren't just for getting on the bus; they work both ways. If you press the stop button, the bus might continue on to the real bus stop or it might stop at an imaginary one (at a blind corner, for example, where all you can do is step down into the halted traffic and try not to look sheepish).
I'm currently in a nice café round the corner from home: if you order wine the nice man brings you over a little snack with your drink. The brilliant advantage of being out is that if you take away tv and the internet, it turns out that I write happily for hours. [I'm just on a little break to write this.]
Later: He’s just given me the password to log onto the café’s broadband connection, which may scupper the whole dedicated-writing-biosphere. Perhaps I'll just log on to post this...