The wind created by speeding cars whipped my hair into my face. I stood by the edge of the road, waiting for my bus to arrive. It was always late, and I would always panic once the clock hit quarter after. I wondered if the bus was always on time and I was just too stubborn to change my schedule.
I could see the bus in the distance. It pulled up slowly and I hopped on. The driver printed out a transfer ticket for me. I didn’t need it, but not wanting to be rude or wasteful I thanked him and took it anyways. I’m not sure how this wasted less, but it made me feel better.
The bus was crowded and I was left to stand in the aisle, people packed in behind me. I turned down the volume of my music, not sure if everyone else could hear it, and worried they may be bothered by it if they could.
No comments:
Post a Comment