Six people in a bus depot waiting room.
Five of them are waiting for a bus. Five of them are patiently anxious, because it is midnight, and they are tired, and all they want to do is accomplish this last part of their night – to get home, to get to sleep the last leg of their journey, or to greet a relative finally coming back from parts unknown.
The sixth man, though.
He’s waiting, too, but not for a bus.
He’s waiting for his dinner. The menu is varied, and he hasn’t made his choice yet.