Budapest Bus Number Eight
by Noemi Szadeczky-Kardoss
Bus Number Eight shudders to a halt at its final stop at Gazdagrét and gives a big sigh.
“Pssssssssshhhhhh,” he says and opens his doors.
His passengers clamber down the steep stairs. One of them, an old lady carrying a large basket, heads for the grocery store across the street. Two young mothers with strollers and gurgling babies help each other get off the bus, then walk towards the park hiding among the eleven-storied apartment blocks.
You must be logged in to post a comment.