It is two o’clock in the morning. Todd is waiting at the bus stop deep in the dark suburbs. Icicles hanging off his shivering nose.
He is waiting with an old man, a woman, a security guard, three Russians, and a man cheerfully shouting Tequila scented nonsense into his phone as he wanders back and forth along the sidewalk. Waiting for the bus to come.
And here comes a firetruck.
A red and orange firetruck waiting for the light to change.
And the man hangs up his phone, lights a cigarette and saunters halfway across the street.
Looks right and left, and hops on the back. Holds on tight! And the firetruck?