At lunchtime – A story of love. Roger McGough When the busstopped suddenly to avoiddamaging a mother and child in the road, theyounglady in the greenhat sitting oppositewas thrown across me,and not being one to miss an opportunityI started to makelovewith all my body.At first, she resisted saying that itwas tooearly in the morning and too soonafter breakfast and that anyway she foundme repulsive. But when I explained thatthis being a nuclearage,the world was goingto end at lunchtime, she tookoff hergreenhat, put her bus ticket into her pocketand joined in the exercise.The buspeople, and therewere many ofthem, were shockedandsurprised, and amused-andannoyed, but when word got aroundthat the world was coming to an end at lunchtime,they put their pride in their pocketswith their bustickets and madelove one with the other.And even the busconductor, feeling leftout climbed into the cab and struck upsome sort of relationship with the driver.Thatnight, on the bus coming home,wewere all alittle embarrassed, especially meand the younglady in the green hat, and weall started to say in different ways howhastyand foolish we had been. Butthen, alwayshaving been a bitofalad, i stood up andsaid it was a pity that the world didn’t nearlyend every lunchtime, and that we could alwayspretend. And then it happened . . .Quick asa flash we all changed partners,and soon the bus was aquiver with whitemothball bodies doing naughty things.And the next dayand everydayIn everybusIn everystreetIn everytownIn everycountryPeople pretended that the world was comingto an end at lunchtime. It still hasn’t.Although in a way it has.
Sara Nathan ● 5017d