After midnight. Bleary faces of different shades stand at a bus stop. Some for longer than twenty minutes waiting for a bus that only arrives twice an hour.
Working men, all of whom just finished their shifts to wake up for another go-round in various addresses in Manhattan. Almost never a woman’s face dotted in the crowd. Relatively safe neighborhood, but being a woman by default is a dangerous job.
Bus arrives, passengers silently climb aboard. Led footed driver at the wheel. Blurring bricked housing projects whiz by on both sides. Yellow “Fallout Shelter” signs barely noticeable hammered into its bodies.
Blue collared workers heading into the warzone their employers claim to hate could be their safe haven when it all comes down around them.