A yellow 1994 Blue Bird school bus pulled up to the curb outside the former transmission shop on Main Street at 4:58 p.m. Friday. By 5:02 the folding door hissed open and the smell of sage and cold-press coffee drifted into the construction dust.

The bus belongs to Mara Holbrook, 34, who has lived in it since her studio above the bakery on North 7th became a luxury condo walkthrough. “I just needed walls that didn’t move,” she said, stirring a pot of bone broth on a hot plate bolted to the wheel well. “The bus stays put. Mostly.”

Inside, the seats have been replaced with magnetic display boards holding cyanotypes of parking lots, pressed flowers from the median strips on North 19th, and a series of watercolors titled “Same Mountain, Different Condo.” Admission is by donation or a quart of kombucha. Mara accepts Venmo at 406-555-0187.

At 6:15 a parking enforcement officer wrote a $45 citation and slipped it under the windshield wiper. Mara framed it in reclaimed beetle-kill pine and hung it beside a piece called “Ordinance 12-4: No Overnight Dwelling in Commercial Zones.” By 7:30 three visitors had offered to buy the ticket for $200 each. She declined.

“The ticket is the most honest piece in the show,” said Silas Vandeberg, a realtor from Four Corners who came for the charcuterie and stayed for the artist talk. “It captures the tension. We all want to be here. The city just isn’t sure it wants us to stay.”

The bus will be towed at 2 a.m. if it hasn’t moved. Mara says she has a friend with a driveway on Durston. The friend has a friend with a pasture near Manhattan. The pasture has a view of the Bridgers that hasn’t changed in 10,000 years.

Mara served the last of the broth in mason jars. The citation catches the streetlight through the windshield.