Annie sighed. Five minutes to 7.30 and still there was no sign of the driver. Where was the old man with the funky 70s cap? He was supposed to have them up already. The engine was running, the people were fidgeting and prickly beads of perspiration were glistening in the morning light. Yet he was missing.

She glanced again at her watch, tapping her heels at the same time. Tapping her heels had become a perpetual habit, something that she could not stop since young. Impatience was her one greatest vice and when it struck, weird facial expressions would occur. As of that moment, Annie was not in the best of moods. Any second now and she would burst, like a balloon ready to be pricked at a surprise party.

Easy comes, easy goes. A driver boarding the bus. Signalling to them. Getting ready to move. Seemed raring to go. Relief flew round like a little breeze. But it was not Uncle Funky Cap.

Annie merely stared.

I'll continue when I feel like it. Later.