Journey Home

It's Friday evening just before 5pm and I'm stood, in the dark and wet, waiting for a bus... that's late. It should have been here at least 5 minutes ago.
Every so often I'm looking into the sea of headlights coming towards me trying to see if any are bus-shaped. The lack of orange above them says they aren't.

On the bus now. My concentration on looking out for one almost lapsed enough for me to miss it but then, if it had been on time, that wouldn't have happened.
Two minutes into the journey I took a seat. Surprising at this time. A few people still stood because they can't be bothered to move down to the vacant seats at the back of the bus. Either that or those seats that are vacant are next to the larger variety of person or those who believe their shopping deserves a seat. So you're left to stand or sit with one cheek hanging into the isle.

A quiet bunch on the bus today.
A random schoolchild. Students. All with their variety of mobile ringtones recognisable as default Nokia or Samsung. No crazy dance tune today.

Halfway home. The mood hasn't changed. At work or with friends Friday is a happy day especially when it's over. When you're travelling on public transport and looking at the array of faces, it feels like a never ending Monday.
A few have left the bus. A few more have joined us. They could have been anyone. I haven't been paying attention. They can't have been elderly or pregnant otherwise I wouldn't have been sat here anymore.

It's the same view out of the windows as when I got on. A distorted black world viewed through a changing transparent raindrop window. Every now and again, distorted lights fly past. My orientation must be up to scratch because I have a vague idea where I am even though I recognise nothing.

Time has come to leave this constant Monday morning and return to Friday. These people could still be here next week.

BYL.