Catching a Bus

I boarded a bus in West Yorkshire. A red double decker armed with two sharp battering rams extending 10 feet out the front.
The driver was furious, he had been 'cut up' by the bus ahead and it was his duty to right the wrong by destroying the hapless bus, driver and passengers.
I held on for dear life as the bus thundered round blind bends, missing oncoming traffic by inches.
I was amazed at the driver's skill.
But, the pursued bus must have been aware of its potential fate and kept just ahead.
Needless to say, everyone missed their stop.
I probably did as well, had I been able to remember where I was going.

Fares please

This was a dream in which I was invited into a brothel by two punk fairy women. They were quite entrancing but I did not accept their offer. Probably because of the presence of my son and his mother, although not sure that I would have anyway.

We had been standing outside my car admiring a double decker bus that was on top of a ruined castle. Pondering how it got there and where it would go to.

The unknown bus ride, symbolising perhaps all those decisions not taken.