Stuck! Again, for the millionth time already, there I was, stuck in 306. 306 of course is like the chamber of doom… for me at least. 2 hours, damnit. 1,5 hours. 1 hour – come on, come on, hurry it up already! 0,5 hours. “Gah, I can’t take it no more. Blah, forget it, let them do the writing and lemme do the relaxing in stead.”

No bell as usual – 2 minutes longer as usual. Who cares, it’s not like those 2 minutes matter after 8 hours of torment. Like a drop of pee into the pool, just like that. “On the road again… can’t wait to get on the road again”. The song kept haunting me all day, oddly enough. Maybe has something to do with the assignment we were given. Nevermind that. Boots – check. Coat – check. Gloves – check. Goodbyes to classmates – check. “On the road again…”. Oh yes, finally, on the road. Again. For the I-don’t-know-how-manieth time.

Crunch.             Crunch.           Crunch.         I’ve always wondered why the hell it crunches so hard. Like some giant crunching on some leftover bits of a human – Hercules perhaps. Friction. Yeah, that’s what it’s called.

5. Magical number – it either makes you or breaks you. Depends on whether you get one at school or you’re exactly that many minutes late for the bus. In my case it really didn’t matter. The BUS number 5 was different – it came when it wanted, it went when it wanted. Suppose it was out to break you in any case. Was lucky this time though, only had to wait 7 minutes. And there it was, sluggish as ever – my ticket home.

The road itself was a new one for me as I had recently moved. Nonetheless, it seemed too boring to watch the miles pass by just like that. So I grabbed “Catcher in the Rye” from my rucksack and delved deep into Holden’s troublesome life.

Stop. Cold air rushed in through three wide-open doors. Young and old, everyone climbed on.  One of the younger ones sat behind me, almost sobbing in tears. “There were no elves, not today, neither yesterday”, she wept. The reason – she forgot to hang a stocking on the mantle and put up a Christmas calendar. Kinda felt sad for her. Nah, not really, it was her own carelessness anyway. Still felt like giving her my snickers, though. Too bad I had eaten it at school. Oh well…

Wrrroooommm. Tires slipping. Snow splurting. Typical 5 – rumbling, rickety, bumpy and uncomfy. Always out to make you trip. An old hag makin’ her way towards a seat almost tripped – a random ramble followed. Funny, though sad at the same time.

Stop. Stop. Finally, I reached Newport and it was time to bid farewell to the sad girl and the raging lady. It had gone dark in less than 15 minutes, also a bit colder. Newport, what could you expect – it was so close to the sea that the breeze was inevitable. I huddled up in the bus stop, behind some bulky weightlifter-like chav. Bus. Another bus. And another one. Mister Thompson, an old friend of mine, was on it. Of course, he couldn’t be arsed to ditch the bus and come have a chat – he only waved and off he went again. I rose to see the bus schedule and found out 44 had just left. 19 was coming, so I decided to hop on and take the longer route – beats waiting in the blistering cold for 15 minutes any day, I can tell you that.