The Bus


The rain falls steadily on the roof of the shelter.  Four large drips fall in the doorway, I had to make my way through them as I came in.  The rain has built to a sudden frenzy and is relentless.  There are small rivers running along the road and down the hill.  I back up against the wall of the shelter as the traffic rushes past, bring up tidal waves from the run off they pass through.

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