Photo Source: Pexels A low ceiling of clouds pressed down on the Greyhound station. Falling at an angle and perceptible only under the streetlights, rain glazed the road and sidewalk in front of the terminal. The bus line’s red, white, and blue neon sign colored the clouds. It was also reflected in the shallow puddles on the street.   It was after midnight on a weekday in the doldrums of December, and the occasional car or taxi eased past the station, tires hissing and rippling the...