Moments of Weakness
Erica stepped lightly onto the pavement, and wrapped her coat around her as the bus pulled away from the kerb. A breeze sprang up, stirring the skeletal leaves at her feet, then died away once more. "Bollocks," she muttered, hitching her handbag up higher on her shoulder, and set off along the road. Her breathe misted in the cold autumn air, and, not for the first time, she wished she had taken a taxi instead of waiting for the late bus. The evening had been fun, a few drinks with the girls...