So Brother Pete and I headed out to our respective works early this morning presuming there would be no buses on account of the incredibly icy roads. But a bus turned up anyway.
Further along the road we passed a sign that said there were no bus services running today. We were on a bus at the time. We became convinced that it must be a ghost bus.
Later we overheard the driver calling the depot to see if they had any rock salt. Clearly he was a fan of Supernatural and knew the rock salt would protect him against ghosts.
We started to worry. The driver then announced that the bus would no longer be stopping to pick up new passengers because it was full. There were a few empty seats in front of us. Wherever this bus was going there were no more stops along the way.
Finally we arrived in the centre of Brighton, which was according to the front of the bus its final destination. It is also the place where most people coming into town on a regular day get off the bus. We made it off as did a handful of others, but the majority stayed on, staring at us with the dead eyes of lost souls as we passed them.
I am convinced it was the bus to Hell. I am now living in fear of Final Destination-esque consequences for not completing the journey. I'll let you know how that goes.
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