I’m at a bus stop, fooling myself that the tin shed is sufficient protection from the heat. As I lift my bum from the metal bench to allow for a woman on crutches to take a seat, I learn what bum sweat feels like.
She doesn’t take the seat.
“Do you live here?”
“I’m a long-grass”.
I’m staring at her ankle.
“It’s payback love, me husband gave me payback”.
The bus pulls up.
“There’e is, on that bus there”.
She climbs the stairs before me, stops halfway and leans back;
“Don’t worry love, I gave him payback too”.