Angeline was bored of the small-townlife.

With each passing moment, the weight of her ennui seemed to grow, suffusing every corner of her existence with a palpable sense of disillusionment.

The small-town routine had become suffocating, a monotonous rhythm that offered no respite. Despite how connected everyone seemed to be, Angeline couldn't help but find herself disconnected from it all.

Perhaps that was why she sat at the weathered bus stop, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon where the city beckoned like a distant promise of freedom. The bus, a fleeting beacon of escape, would arrive punctually at 2 pm every Sunday, teasing her with the possibility of liberation before disappearing once more into the horizon.

Every Sunday, she found herself sitting at that bus stop, wondering what it would be like to just leave, to not be stuck living in some unknown town, surrounded by unknown people.

Of course, she never quite had the courage to get up and do it. She didn't have the money or the support to do so, after all. It was all just one big pipedream.

So for now, she remained rooted to the spot, a solitary figure in the fading light of day.