On top of the bus shelter, there was a pair of handcuffs.

That is all.

But not a severed hand? How disappointing.

There's an old phonebook and a set of keys on top of the shelter near where I drop off.

Truly, these things make life worth living.

Over a period of about six months I watched a sandwich left atop a bust shelter on Kingsway decompose. From the top deck of the southbound 168 you saw the steady fall and autumnal bloom of mould and rot.

Then someone cleaned the roof the shelter.