05 December 2010

By late afternoon the hoards of sticky children had made it home from the Santa Claus parade and the smell of alcohol and stale cigarettes had dissipated. Seriously kids, the habits you bring home. As I stood up and turned to exit the bus there was a man slack-faced and dirty, eyes fixed and agitated gripping the back of my seat. I had a pretty good idea what he was feeling but felt I had no right to disturb him. Doing so would probably have been unwise.

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