The man was dressed in a suit, with neat short cropped hair. He carried a placard that read "no more authority" and apologised to Jane when it hit her on the shin as he shuffled past her as he made his way to the back of the bus. Jane wondered if he was on the way to a protest or on the way back from one.
He didn't look like a protester.
Perhaps he was an artist. There was a lot of strange things going on at the moment that didn't quite make sense to her. Like the woman dressed like a mole who got off at the last stop.
Jane watched as the man excused himself all the way to the back of the bus and sat down on the rear seat, resting the placard on the floor. None of the other passengers seemed interested in him. Not for the first time, Jane wondered if she were imagining things.
For a moment, she thought she might follow the man, sit next to him, engage him in conversation and find out what he was protesting about. But instead she rang the bell, and got off the bus at her usual stop and walked the rest of the way to work.
...
