The sparkling motorcoach leaves the lot and turns towards the passenger terminal. It arrived late, they were short-staffed and had to clean up the inbound passengers’ mess in record time.

She feels a spark of satisfaction over achieving the almost impossible.

It doesn’t last long – as the vehicle vanishes from view, she wonders how many minutes until another piece of gum is discarded in between its seats, until a spill of soda makes the floor sticky again and until someone misses the mark on the toilet.

Cleaning busses ain’t pushing a rock up a hill, but it ain’t far off.

***

Been a while since I’ve joined Friday Fictioneers, but this week’s photo handed me a story on a silver plate, so how could I resist? Find all stories here.