Wet Seat

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Wet Seat

Shuffling his bags, the man tensed as he balanced his wallet, breakfast, and belongings around in order to step onto the bus. The relieving tone of the card reader signaling the go ahead to find a seat.

He peered across the sea of faces, trying to find a hole or gap he could squeeze into. Two seats to his right drew his eye. Moving to sit into the far one, he was halfway down when a uproar of concern hit him.

A large elderly woman clutching an infant shook her hand at him and frightfully warned him of the puddle he was about to sit down into. Halfway down already, he pushed against the back of the seat and started sliding over. Perched over the second seat and worried, he glanced down at the dry seat below before exhausting onto it.

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