(no subject)
The other day, I got on a bus in the southwest part of town. Most people commute with their own cars on that side of town, and many bus stops are empty outside of rush hour. I expected some hast in the driver to get back downtown, but there was a tension in her. She was sweating as her gaze darted this way and that, and she drove the bus with the alarmed urgency of a bear leaving the scene of a busted hive, still being chased by its tenants. Finally, as we approached a Kangaroo gas station, she announced an unscheduled pit stop that just couldn't wait any longer.
