In the quiet, she only has the bus
driver and ‘ol Baba O’Reilly to
keep her company. Both, she’s
terribly dependent on. In the
reflection of the windows she
sees herself [out of the corner
of her eye] scrawling out life in
a tatter edged notebook. To no
one in particular, maybe Baba,
she smiles in the florescent light.
It’s her stop.