The snow started again, a moving lace curtain filtering through the yellow light of the streetlamps, falling silently onto the coated sidewalks below. He must be so cold standing there. But still he stayed, stuck in the camouflage of darkness like an insect on a leaf. A man and a woman came up to the stop and stood peering anxiously at the writing on its side. Miraculously, a taxi’s yellow VACANT sign glowed out from halfway down the road. They hailed it wildly and it stopped. You could almost see the relief in their body language as they piled in. The clock read 12:10. It was firmly into night-bus territory now. By 12:20 the car was so cold she had to stuff her hands up into her armpits to keep them from freezing. When she looked up again she saw the figure of a young woman coming up to the bus stop. She was not exactly dressed for the weather: a butt-length half-coat over jeans and heeled boots, with no hat and a less-than-serious scarf.
