“I’ve always loved this time of year, especially
November. As a child it always seemed magical to me,” James Peterson said to
the driver of the van he’d hired for the day.
“Right,” the driver said rolling his eyes with an air of
disinterest as he checked his mirrors. Then he glanced over at James, with a
nod, he let out a long sigh. “Please could you belt up, Sir.”
“What! Oh sorry, yes, of course,” James snapped the belt
together with a satisfying clunk.
The driver pacified, gave a sharp nod, readjusted his rear
view mirror, and then gave a final check to the road behind before joining the
early morning traffic.
James leant back in his seat, hoping for a comfortable ride.
He didn’t want to think about the task ahead, when he had plenty of other
things that needed doing. He stared out of the window, enjoying the sight of
people rushing about in the busy cityscape. He knew the first part of the
journey would be slow. Too many traffic lights and dawdling cyclists caught up
in the morning rush hour, but at least it gave him the chance to enjoy the
architecture when under normal circumstances it flashed past.
As the cityscape faded making way for a more rural setting,
he gave a snort, soon losing interest in his surroundings.
In the silence of the van’s cab, he glanced over at the
driver who seemed lost in his own thoughts.
James normally used to the busyness of an office was unable
to cope with the silence, and felt the need to shatter the peace.
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