I was on my way home from work this evening, on the usual 174. Shortly before I alighted, while standing near the exit doors, the bus jerked and braked so violently that a few people were flung forward.
I happened to be holding on lightly to a pole, but was hurled a few feet forward, yanking my joints nearly out of their sockets and bruising my finger.
My hands are still shaking.
And I’ve lost my voice so I’m quite antisocial today. I feel bad about it because Little Dan has come to Singapore to visit, and I don’t feel like leaving the house and staying up late – even with old friends. How on earth am I supposed to talk?