11:45pm. The rain pelts down around me as I scurry to the bus-stop. Shapeless figures shuffle past, heads tilted down, shoulders tense from holding umbrellas. Ahead, a girl’s heel gets caught in a sewer cover. She laughs out loud as her boyfriend tries to wrench it free. I skirt by them, drenching my feet in the process. She continues to laugh. There’s only one other person at the bus-stop – an old man who looks around nervously as if something’s after him. I ignore his glances and turn back to look at the couple. They’ve disappeared. Three buses come and go before the right one arrives. I board and find a seat. A drunk in the front shouts for the driver to stop. The driver keeps on driving. The drunk starts giggling. I turn away. The rain is coming down in sheets now. Through the windows, streetlights look like so many novas burning in the night sky. I suddenly remember that I have to buy this book. The bus finally stops at the interchange. Something’s happened. A police cordon has been set up and there’re officers all around. I hurry past the scene. At the cineplex, I see more officers on patrol. I don’t feel curious at all. I stand outside BK to wait for Pat. The place is thronged with foreign workers. It’s Hindi night. They seem excited. Laughter fills the place along with shrieks of anticipation. Pat arrives, beaming as always. I feel comforted somehow. We make our way to the cinema. Everyone finds The Incredibles funny but I don’t. Yet I laugh. I laugh because Pat laughs. The show ends. It’s 2:05am. The rain continues to pour.