He carelessly slaps his phone.
Five more minutes.
Just five more minutes.
Every morning: too many people.
All bleary-eyed, pretending it’s not uncomfortable to feel alone in such a crowded space. 700 more words
It’s the old sound and feel of public transit. I find there are floods of memories. Knowledge of when it will get busy and when it will know some spaciousness. 4,074 more words