The Tiny Dance Party at the Bus Stop

I was waiting for the bus on a gray Monday morning, in the rain, along with six other grumpy commuters. Then a little girl of about five, in a yellow raincoat, started dancing.

There was no music. She just danced, spinning in circles and stomping in puddles, singing to herself. Her mother, holding an umbrella, looked a little embarrassed.

Then an old man in a raincoat started tapping his foot. A teenager pulled out his phone and played a song through a little speaker. A woman in a business suit swayed side to side. Before I knew it, I was bopping my head along with everyone else.

The bus came. The little girl took a bow. We all clapped. The bus driver looked very confused. I smiled all the way to work.