Bus Station by Ian Seed

Just as I was getting off the bus, the driver handed me a small brown-paper package to give to my mother. It’s a surprise, he told me. I didn’t have the heart to inform him she was no longer alive. Then I went into the station café to order some chips and beans, my favourite meal when I was a child. My mother made it for me each time I came back miserable from school. Later the driver saw me in the station with the package still in my hands. He stared at me in disbelief, as if I was just hanging around, up to no good like all those times I used to play truant. I’m on my way, I told him.

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Ian Seed’s latest collection is Forgetfulness (Shearsman, 2026). Find him at: www.ianseed.co.uk