The Buses But I'm still working for the moment and this morning I'm stuck on one of those ancient buses which I wrote about the other day. We're half way up Princes Avenue (long road which bridges the Sefton Park area and the city centre straight through Toxteth) and a very strong burning smell starts to permiate the atmosphere. The bus grinds to a halt. I look around and see large amounts of smoke billowing from the engine.
"Turn around." I say outloud. "Smoke."
The rest of the bus turn around and look. Someone actually gasps. By now, the driver is getting out of his can and is off the bus walking towards the back. We watch him looking at the engine.
A woman at the front stands and trying to be impressive says: "Well he would stop in the middle between two bus stops. Sod this -- I'm getting a taxi." We watch as she stomps off the bus and into the distance.
The driver returns.
"Erm. The bus is on fire. But there's another one up the road there."

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