Brassy

Her brassy hair waved behind her as she looked out the window of the bus. Again and again, as she always had.

A familiar view it was. Every single morning for years, seemingly.

There was laughing around her. There were other people.

But she just stared out of the open window, the wind pushing her hair behind her. The air moving past her, moving the same way that it always had.

It was enough.

via Daily Prompt: Brassy

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