"Waiting on the pavement in the morning in winter for the school bus."

 It was a tranquil morning, the blue of the sky shrouded by the fog of winter. The sun was yet to rise, and I was the lone figure standing by the pavement, wrapped up in a warm scarf and with my breaths lightly misting on the frigid air. The school-bus was yet to arrive.

The empty streets slowly filled up with the hustle and bustle of the morning-walkers, a light blaring of a car horn heard once in awhile. The streets weren't clogged with traffic yet, but they would be soon. The sky gradually lightened to a dull hue, the crimson of the sun covered by an overcast sky. The school-bus was yet to arrive.

I slowly, patiently, waited, my school-bag slung over one protesting shoulder and my shoes tapping along to an unconscious melody on the pavement. The air was now seasoned with the excited barking of dogs, with the occasional bus stopping by to pick up the office-goers. A few colleagues from school too came over to stand beside me, and after amicably chatting with them about the whereabouts of the less-than-punctual school-bus, I resumed looking around at my surroundings again. The school-bus was yet to arrive.

It was now properly morning, the street now littered with the busy roar of angry morning-traffic. The few classmates beside me grew restless, and that set off my anxiousness, too. School-buses of the other schools came and went, but the school-bus was yet to arrive.

I had now been waiting for a long time, my warm scarf and gloves cast away, having become too warm. A cup of tea had long since been bought and drunk from, and I settled for sifting through one of my textbooks to get through the long wait. And at last,my eyes sneakily peering from behind the textbook were rewarded, and the bus, gleaming a golden yellow, finally arrived.