I sit on the bus, watching the blurry images of green trees and telephones poles pass by. My attention is caught by an elderly lady sitting in the disabled seating at the front of the bus. She has wrinkles like an old oak tree, and eyes a deep emerald. People come on the bus each time it stops and the old women smiles at the isles as they walk by. She makes no eye contact. Her velvet hat of purple and her matching gloves sit lightly on her lap. Her watch is visible through the space between her gloves and her grey rain coat. The watch is a yellow gold, with a white background and scripture-esk black numbers. The clock ticks, but its ticking the same tick, trying to get to the next number, but itís being held back by its demeaning battery, or a piece of debris. I am not sure, as I donít ask to take a closer look at the watch.