The tired squeak of brakes was a familiar sound at the bus stop. It was a brittle cold morning and the huff of hot breath flowed from the passengers as the snow slurry fell on their shoulders. A lacuna formed between the able bodied young ones and the slow cluck of the old.
The bus drivers devoir was to make sure every passenger was safely loaded and sitting before he started up again. A few tousled haired teenagers boarded for home neighborhoods; their group playing dizzying music loudly. Newspaper carrying elders softly settled into their usual seats and the laptop commuters took the rear seats trying not to be disturbed as they hurried to finish up last minute business on their way home.
The bus line carried a plush assortment of passengers from different walks of life and once the vehicle started chugging along its practiced route, they all fell into their own familiar spots.
***
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/18/wordle-158-2/#like-18982
The Bag Lady 
So realistic to someone who took the bus and trains to work until deciding to drive at age 50. It is amazing how you come to almost feel like family with people whose names you don’t know, but whom share an hour or do of your day e dry day and can to expect to see you.
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Well done. This made me smile. I commuted to graduate school by bus, about 50% of the time. It was usually the same group of people and we did settle into a predictable routine.
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Cool. Thank you.
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Very expertly done.
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Thanks!
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You’re welcome 😊
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