Nearing home and in despair of finding a middle name. It is cold and I scan the bus for potential strangers. As if by fate, a large pink suitcase falls in to my lap. Its owner, a tall man wearing a tweed coat and a grey army cap, apologies and picks it up. A brown leather satchel hangs by his waist. I seize the moment. His brief confusion is followed by a smile as he spells out his name. He tells me it is from Nigeria. I comment on the size of his suitcase. He agrees that it is big. I ask where he is going. 'Home', he says. 'Where's that?' I ask. 'Nigeria', he replies. Perhaps I should have known.
He and the pink suitcase get out at the next stop. We are not near an airport.
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