nostalgy

The bus must be from the 70's, if not older. Inside it's hot as a sauna and noisy as an old tractor. The grey haired driver is friendly, I was typing a message and didn't see the bus coming before it was about to drive by, but he stopped anyway. I'm on the way to my home town to get dad's old car. I wonder if this is the last time I have a reason to go there by bus. Progress, sometimes you make me sad.