Her eyes kept moving across the station, occasionally checking the movement of the clock hanging at the center of a mildly crescent platform; its hands circulating endlessly. Peeping through the aviators and absorbing the sepia stained scene, her frizzy hair was moving with the afternoon wind. White uniform conductors, petulant passengers and screaming vendors were asynchronously playing their parts in the play. She bent down to tie the laces of her dust smothered sneakers that carried the marks of her journey, longer than a year now! Standing upright, she performed her routine check: bags, wallet, ticket, water.
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