London

London is often a lonely and mean spirited place, but I was pleasantly surprised last night.

I squeezed onto the bus on my way home, but it set off with such a jerk that I, and several other people, went flying. This trip proved too much for my book bag (my advice is to be suspicious of IPA carrier bags!) and the bottom split, my books flying everywhere.

The next five minutes proved quite interesting. The bus pitched and tossed while I scrabbled around on the floor to retrieve everything. Finally, all poise completely lost, I sat down.

After examining my pile of belongings and my useless bag in dismay, I looked up to find a stranger opposite offering me a spare bag, having rearranged her shopping to do so. How lovely!

Small, everyday events like that really make me happy.