Everyday Yeah one-thousand three-hundred and eighty-three

I waited near the bus stop and watched a guy read a book about adverbs. I asked the man if he was a scholar or if he was irritated by poor grammar or if he was doing research for a historical abstract on the form of adverbs. He did not respond. I said, “Pleasure?” A very large woman operated a motorized wheelchair. I watched her for three to five seconds. A small dog sat on the bottom of her wheelchair. I did not noticed the dog until after I stopped looking at the large woman. The dog burrowed a hole into the woman’s machine and lived in the space under her asshole. A bus driver waiting for a bus seemed concerned. He didn’t have a bus yet. Maybe his bus wouldn’t come. I asked the man reading the book if adverbs were a bad decision. He said he rarely thought of adverbs as a decision. The guy reading about adverbs turned the page. I wanted to ask him more questions but I couldn’t think of any that seemed relevant. A bus approached but it wasn’t a bus anyone wanted. A dozen people got off the bus. No one got on the bus. Yeah walked up to me and asked if that had been our bus. He was holding a burrito. He bought it around the corner. He said it tasted like walnuts.