It gets dark so early now – she whispered. A streetlight had just been lit. The man behind her was thinking – you could tell – back at the time when they used candles to light streetlights and it was all amber-yellow. As if he’d been there in person! She hated the reflection of herself in the huge window of the bus as each streetlight seemed to get its neon activated when the bus passed by it, it did something unpleasant to the red of her hair, so she tried to take the bus only before it got too dark – the sun never did create unpleasant impressions while riding through the city. Suddenly both were jolted forward and slightly to the right, a screech of the brakes and a few damning words in at least three languages: tourists! She turned around and caught the look in his eyes – he didn’t react. He was thinking now of old stagecoaches and horse-drawn buggies. She could tell.