Waking up on the bus, everyone seemed like ghosts. The city wasn't awake yet, not for ten minutes or so. Everyone sulked, moved, slipped through the streets, not really wanting the day to begin but faced with the inevitable certainty that yes, the sun must rise every day.

I tried smiling a futile smile at the old woman.
I tried catching the young girl's eye. And holding it.

But everyone was asleep. We were all dead. All ghosts.

Words - S
Photo - S