The road was wet with rain, black and shiny like oilskin. The reflection of the streetlamps wallowed like yellow jelly-fish. A bus was approaching - a bus to Piccadilly, a bus to the never-never land - a bus to death or glory. I found neither. I found something which haunts me still. The great bus swayed as it sped. The black street gleamed. Through the window a hundred faces fluttered by as though the leaves of a dark book were being flicked over. And I sat there, with a six penny ticket in my hand. What was I doing! Where was I going?("Same Time, Same Place")

Weird Shadows From Beyond: An Anthology Of Strange Stories