Today I went past a bus stop that I pass regularly. But something about the light, something about a girl standing there, something made me remember.
A morning, sometime in late winter or early spring 1997. Standing at that bus stop with D, after spending the night at his. Not that anything happened. We sat up nearly all night, talking with his friends and watching videos (ah, the olden days, before DVDs). During the course of the night, one of his friends told him that there were Cure t shirts being sold off for £1 in what was then Virgin, a deal that was still pretty impressive even in the 1990s. D was due to sign up for a college course the next morning, so decided to drop in at Virgin on the way.
At this point we were pretty much nocturnal. D, one of his friends (A, I think?) and I woke up after not enough sleep and made our way to the bus stop. The one I passed today.
The sun had not long since risen and the light was thin and white, highlighting trees and buildings. D blinked and looked up. 'Is it always this beautiful in the morning?' he asked.
I didn't know how to answer.
I don't know why all these old memories are suddenly floating to the surface.