Glad In The Gold Glow Of The Setting Sun by Bernie Jordan

Another day of heavy rain but his spirits soared above the leaden clouds. He sat on the top front seat
of the double decker, the last stage of his long journey home. Each drop of rain on the window
caught a speck of coloured light, multiplying it into hundreds of red sparks that turned orange, then
green. The bus moved on. The next stop was his own. His heart sang at the ting of the bell
‘I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain, what a glorious feeling, I’m happy again.’
His body swayed to the swing of bus as he spiraled down the steps. He launched himself onto the
wet pavement, umbrella in outstretched hand. Dark clouds parted like a theatre curtain and he was
greeted by the glistening orb of the sun setting on the shortest day of the year. Home in time for