HURRIED FOOTSTEPS cut through the noise of the bustling crowd. Once she spotted a jeepney, she slowed to a walk. Through the windows, it was obvious she had to wait for longer. She found a seat and settled inside. Her finger tapped repeatedly on her knee as she mentally counted the seconds she was late.
Slowly, the jeepney began to fill up. Her knees were bunched together and her arms hugged her bag close. Even through her mask, the smoke from the jeepney and other vehicles in traffic permeated. Though the engine was running, the jeepney did not move.
She wondered if getting a car would be more convenient. However, the sound of car horns quickly interrupted that thought. She peeked at the commotion. The traffic lights might as well have not been there with the dozen cars stuck together, unable to move even an inch.
She sighed and looked somewhere else to pass the time. A group was slowly approaching the jeepney. She prayed that they would not get in. It was already cramped. Luckily, they stopped just short of the opening.
They were looking at the road, waiting for the cars to stop before they could walk around the jeepney. Why not the sidewalk? As if to answer her question, she took note of the sidewalk or the lack thereof. She could not even find where a foot would stand, let alone a person.
It seemed that she managed to pick the best option she had. F
