He waited at the bus stop, away from the queue, beside the pylon. He waited with his re-useable library bag, his environmentally friendly re-useable bag. He waited with an erect stance, with his legs balanced, planted firmly on the concrete pavement. Firmly braced should the huddle of boisterous school children swarm in his general direction. School children of the teenage variety can be so predictably unpredictable.
The muscles in his face appeared stationary. The muscles in his face could have borne an affliction for all they moved. He looked straight ahead with his face - but not with his eyes.
His eyes marched up and his eyes marched down. The whites flashed left and the whites flashed right, paying attention, assessing the dangers, monitoring the queue, watching the hands on the clock across the way. The hands on the clock face appeared stationary.
He wanted to go home - now.