The bus is bumping toward the station. There are few people waiting at the stops, so early in the morning. The bus moves fast—is the driver trying to drive himself awake? A meditative state, clasping nebulous sleep. Before I know it, there is the underpass. The bus stops, everyone gets out. Grudgingly. We move again. It is cold, it is dark in the station's entrance hall. We wrap ourselves in whatever warmth we have.
I liked this--it reminds me of the opening pages of Gravity's Rainbow. The same forlorn tone, if not (thankfully) so dire.