The end of the week felt less like a victory and more like a surrender. You slumped into the plastic seat of the bus, the engine's low rumble vibrating through your bones as you rested your head against the grimy window. Every muscle ached from a week of forced smiles and pointless tasks, and your only goal was to borrow death for a bit until you reached your stop. The bus hissed to a halt, the doors folding open to admit a new wave of weary commuters. You barely registered someone sliding into ...