There is an ice rink outside the Civic Centre.
When I get onto the bus, I notice a tiny old lady looking at the young ones having fun. Her happy smile hints of a special night, years before, when she and a dashing young lad similarly frolicked on the ice. At least, I hope so.
As the bus moves away, she keeps staring at the same spot, her fond smile starts to decay, passing through a not quite pleasant grin to merely shriveled lips and tired face.