A Gray Sky Morning

A gray sky morning. The streets are full of people walking silently with their heads down. She stared at them from her seat in the bus, through the wet window where raindrops are racing among each other. Everyone who walked just passed by each other, giving some an occasional nod that was rarely seen in times like this. The bus ran and stopped. Traffic was heavy, and all the cars just lined up, awaiting to run, heading towards their awaited destination. She took a peek at the aisle. People, like her, sat quietly on their seats, waiting for the bus to reach the end of their journey. They moved with a pattern, and they moved altogether. They followed the movement of the bus which was sometimes gentle and often rough. But whatever the movement the bus took, the passengers do not fail to follow. They wait with tired faces until the trip is over during the gray sky morning.