riding the bus

Riding The Bus

I walk over and stand amongst the crowd of students, where I will usually recognize the faces of people who have been riding the same bus as me during the semester. Sometimes I wonder how you can spend such a cumulative amount of time so close to someone where you begin to recognize their outfits, remember the scent of cologne or perfume they wear, what seats the usually prefer to sit in, and so on as you idly go to and from campus together. But after all that time spent so close, and learning so much, when they’re no longer there riding the bus you realize you didn’t know that person at all.

Like zombies we all stood there, blankly staring forward until another bus pulls through, looking up only when one comes to sight hoping it’s the right one. As the buses came and went I heard the faint roar of thunder beginning in the distance, I love the rain. I could not wait to get off campus so I could enjoy the storm in the comfort of my house. My bus finally arrived, and eagerly I boarded knowing as soon as I got home rain was sure to start falling.

As a wave of students flooded onto the bus with me, in a frenzied scramble every seat was filling fast. This was not uncommon, and every instance I’d seen this happen I noticed the single seat facing the opposite direction in the middle is always the last to be taken. I suppose no one wants to constantly have to look at another passenger, but I’ll never be the one who has to stand. So quite often this is my place to sit on the bus facing a multitude of different passengers each time.

After sitting in the same spot so often staring at so many different people they become faceless to me as soon as I get off. But on this day, with seemingly nothing able to deter my attention...

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...feet. After sitting for so many years, she struggled with the simple task of standing up. She held onto the upper railing slowly walking towards the door. Each step she took away from me was finally perfect opportunity to say something. A simple farewell, wishes of good luck, hopes of a better day. But nothing came out. So as she left the bus a half-a-century of held back words went with her.

It took me a few stops along the route for the feeling that she was truly gone to sink in. Perhaps when I returned back to the stop on campus I would see her there next to the students, waiting for our bus to come back. But when I finally got there, after mustering enough strength to exit myself, she was nowhere to be found.

I stood there thinking for a long time. I saw all the busses come and go. Then in the distance, I saw the bus I had become so familiar with coming back.