Megan Kaufmann
As the arctic cold rain drops sprinkled diagonally with my loose, flowing auburn hair, I splashed across the street to the bus stop. Although it was showery and very damp, I was happy about my upcoming day, the clouds were fluffy and dark grey, and there was a wonderful scent in the air, which perfumed of the spring morning.
Just as I strode across the street, the mustard tinted bus, filled with immature, junior high students pulled up beside me.…
