Four lanes

Four rumbling lanes of commuters, one bus, one semi, brake to a halt, stand idle. She has pressed the crossing button. Her white sneaks flash, sun fluffs the nap of her pink sweater, glistens from her lunchbox, as she flicks across the highway, chin down, eyes straight, solemn, ribboned hair bouncing. Here and there on the tight, work-bound faces, slowly, slight, wry smiles bloom.

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