Crossroads

Here's my attempt to write a short story. Can't really say it's written well - haven't even thought about the end. I'm beginning to hesitate. I'm getting disappointed (sigh):

• By the crossroad where two buses chance on, two aged women stood on opposite sidewalks.
• At precisely 6:55 in the morning; same as the day before, and the eventful days before that - for years their fragile minds can remember, they meet up at the same byroad.
• “Elisa would always wear those beige second-skins,” pointing at the other lady across the street. “Regardless the weather, she’d say it always gave her good luck – and that it matched her skin tone.”
• Winter has never been generous to the ladies. The years have been polite enough to reprimand them from getting up early in the morning – encouraging them to appreciate sleep better. Relentless, both women rose from their comfortable beds as if required, grab their coats, slowly shoulder their bags and walk towards the stop.
• “The wind blew harder today,” trying to contain her bun “lucky, I wore my nylons to keep me warm.” Her cheeks peachy, her glove-covered hands arctic – she waved to the lady on the opposite side “Felisa! Yours just left.” Then she laughed.
• Elisa had been a social worker all her life. She started doing volunteer work at an early age – always wanting to reach out. She was raised by her grandmother Carmen who passed away months after she got her first real job. Elisa had always missed her Mama.
• Felisa reached for the stars all her life; always the dreamer, never satisfied with her accomplishments. She was contracted as a messenger during her first summer in secondary school. "She called herself the director for first impressions," her Nana would remember. "Always the one with the important job."
• "Felisa always worries," smirks Elisa. "She gets frustrated when she misses her bus. Ha! No point running after it, really," she sighs "you'd realize that the first bus stressed you out, you're not even late to begin with - it just wasn't your time yet."
• "Elisa can be fun," says Felisa. "Well, she looks funny," laughing.
• Elisa was brought up with the realization that life is hard. She burdened herself with her life's daily struggles, always accepting - thinking that her challenges were ordeals that kept her strong. "She gave up leisure so that she can have leisure," Felisa sympathizes. "Her family was just too dependent on her."
• "I see that you're wearing your hair down today, Fely"
• "It's Thursday, remember?" Felisa would shout back, "Weekly meeting," she'd giggle.

(to be continued..)