“So, what do we do?” The words come out quivering.
“Better,” I say, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and steering us forward, towards home.
“We try to do better.”
My other bus is a bike.
“So, what do we do?” The words come out quivering.
“Better,” I say, wrapping my arm around his shoulder and steering us forward, towards home.
“We try to do better.”