那夜，我坐上旺角開往九龍的三層巨Van / If on a Summer's Night, One Van, One Road, One Idiot
Once upon a time (well, some two hundred and fifty moons ago), the then child envisioned the adult I, at this moment, should be professionally driving a double-decked bus, with all my family and all of my best playmates live happily in this self-sufficient vehicle ever after. Though I am driving a fancy bus, it's weird that the thought that the bus, as a member of the buses, should go somewhere for something, never lingered in the plain of the kid's mind. Maybe it had but just found itself, within a blink of an eye, incarnated into an apparition, hovering over a wet, black bough. The petal, under the roaming gaze of Ulysses, got lost in the silently sprawling metro octopus ever after.