Too Cold for A Long Title

                A cloud of human vapor plumed above the commuter crowd. It hung in the frigid air like some abstract art installation.  Winter had arrived and it was the foremost thought on everyone’s mind. It was damn cold. The commuters shuffled on their cold feet, trying to move the warmth around their bundled bodies.  They clapped their gloved hands and rubbed their own coated arms. It was to no avail. The freeze burrowed through all their bundled layers.

“Damn cold,” said one commuter as they sniffed.
“Ymp,” came the scarfed and muffled reply.

The commuters waiting for the bus were wrapped in heavy scarves and wool caps, thick winter mittens or gloves, thick burly coats and in some cases snow pants draped down over big winter boots. They were a group of five people, unidentifiable as male, female or other through their winter wrappings. They all seemed to be swaying in the morning cold; instinctively hoping their movement would shield them from the bitter negative degree temperatures.  

“Where’s the damn bus,” complained a thickly bundled commuter.

“This is bull,” said another.

“Freaking winter man. Why do we live here,” asked another.

“For the summers,” responded the original complainer.

The crowd of cold commuters laughed in thick white clouds that rose steadily over their woolen heads. They all peered down the gray street, thick with road salt and piles of frozen snow, looking for the bus. The bus was running late. The world seemed to be running late. It was as if the freezing cold had somehow managed to slow time. The normal wait time for the bus was now an agonizing torment for the commuters. They had no choice but to wait in the blistering, blowing freeze.

“I’m buying a car next year,” said one commuter, “then we can all ride together.”

“That would be nice, but you said that last year,” was the reply.

“Well, this year for sure. I mean it,” said the commuter.

The shivering crowd moved closer together as the winter wind howled around them. The bus appeared down the street. It was moving slowly towards the commuter-icicles and they began to nod at one another. The bus pulled up to the stop and the doors opened. The five commuters lined up as they do every morning and boarded. The doors closed and the bus began to pull away.

I sipped my hot coffee at my apartment window. I pulled my cardigan sweater a little closer over my chest and continued to watch the frozen world work.