If I let my mouth relax, the vibrations from the bus make my teeth chatter.
Constant rhythms pulse through my chest like a heavy bass line.
A deep and low drone and the rattle of the old windows in their frames, where the draft seeps in the cracks on the cruel breeze.
As the bus swings left and right so do I. Flung forward as it rolls to a stop with a sudden jerk. The bell sounds, short and impatient.
Snakes of red tail lights out in front leading the way home.
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