| 73 bus stop stories | |||
| 73 bus stops | Kings Cross
It was a quiet rainy wait at the bus stop until she arrived. I saw her running, weaving through traffic, yelling. Both hands clutched her bag and her tightly curled hair held a blue checked dishcloth. Her bus pulled away. She clutched my arm, panting. "That was my bus, my bus." The cloth remained on her head in the shelter. Another 91 arrived. I could still see it through the streaky window. 23/07/03  |
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| lost & found | |||
| 73 bus story cards |
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