The morning bus ride.

Share This:

It’s quiet. Usually. The daze of sleeping shortly past on the silent riders next to me. I don’t know them but a part of me trusts them. There always there, eyes closed but awake. It’s peaceful. A part of me loves them.

But not today.

Today I hate it all. Normally I barely see any of it. Normally I don’t notice how long the bus ride is. Normally my head is bowed and I’m tucked into my own little world. But today I’m forced to notice everything. The creaking of the bus seats as the driver all too fast plows over potholes. The sniffling gentlemen two rows up continuously painting his sleeve with snot. I even notice the damn bus driver. Why does he need to fly down the rode only to slam on the brakes at the last moment? I never want to ride the bus again. But I have to. I sold my damn truck! I HAVE to ride the bus. Everyday. I hate it today.

But there’s hope.

Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow won’t be so bad because tomorrow…I won’t forget my damn book to read!! If I do, you’re gonna get another little story from me.

Shit! I forgot my damn lunch! I guess it’s my turn to to have that kind of day. Alright, bring it on world, things’ve been good lately, today I can take it.

Share This:

2 thoughts on “The morning bus ride.

  1. I hope you haven’t had many mornings like this since. You seem to arrive to work in a cheery mood :).

Leave a Comment