Morning commutes are to be savoured.

There is a certain freshness to the riders that is unique to the hour; it fades as the morning passes, and has completely dissipated by the end of the day. Everyone is fresh from bed, fresh from the bath, fresh from their context.

Different as they all are, they are the same, sharing the same space; lightly clad, they have that same look of fresh grooming, their meticulous preparation fated to be undone -- stray hairs smoothed back with wet hands form a frizzy halo by the day's end. They look their best, now, like schoolchildren on their photo day.

There is a slight nervousness and unsureness, over the events to come, only certain to happen and nothing more. Questions drifting in every mind. The heady mix of hope and anxiety permeates the car like a slow fog, mingling freely with balmy perfumes and colognes.