Bus

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
My mornings.

Submitted: September 09, 2009

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Submitted: September 09, 2009

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It's raining and he doesn't own an umbrella.

A man asks him what time it is.

The bus is twenty minutes late.

He sits in his usual seat, no one ever sits there.

A man is talking very loudly.

It's eight in the fucking morning.


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