One sentence story – writing exercise

I see this old woman on the bus every day, stuffy nose, barely breathing, her mouth slightly open, glassy eyes with tears holding desperately on the murky blue of her iris, blinking very slowly, like she’s somewhere else, blowing her nose from time to time in one of these embroidered handkerchiefs, I see her every day, sometimes waiting outside and smoking, other times just watching people in the bus, head pushed forward like a turtle, emanating compassion, I watch her watching me, and all I feel is repulsion.

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