Bus Ride Perception

That day, she climbed up the stairs, and found the small bus to be completely full. It was awfully quite, though, because there were no little kids. The tightness was still unbearable, and she had been seconds away to turn back, and run back inside, and get into the messy bed, and be alone.

It seemed years before she found a seat, if a seat is what you call it, because already very close to the window was this little boy seating. She just removed her backpack, and sat, and tried to be unnoticeable. She wasn’t intimidated by the boy, or anything, but she did notice him a little nervous. Shut up, you little dork, she thought before realizing the bus was quiet as hell. This was the only seat available, and it’s too bad you have to share. She had never been much of a mean person. Her mind, though, it was mean.

The best was to ignore the boy. So she looked towards the other side, into the sidewalk, so huge, somehow, so filled with air, and suddenly she noticed she wanted to walk to school, from now on. Because she didn’t want for her daily rides to be filled with lack of air, and weird window-viewers. In the sidewalk, jolly people—jolly, it seemed—walked by, some where running, their dog following happily behind.

There were small parks, and though she’d never used them before, she wanted to try them now, and the grass looked so comfy, as in comfier-than-the-bus-seat comfy. The smell within the bus was harsh, and gasoline-like. The noise, much worse. Every once is a while it seemed the vehicle had learned to breathe, and so it decreased in speed, and sighed, and increased once more. She thought now it was old and pathetic. It certainly didn’t seem it was going much faster than the people walking parallel.

The bus came to a stop, and for a spilt second she pictured a stranded bus, in her head. But there was a person—a boy—mounting the bus, and that meant good news. More than that. This boy, he was not so tall, but thin enough, and his eyes were small and round and his hair like a true brunette, and a charming smile. Suddenly, she forgot about hating the bus, and the weird kids, and ignored the smell and the sound, now so quiet.

He started walking towards the backseat, and there were truly no more spaces left. She looked at the small boy, still stuck to the window, and she thought no more about his well-being.

She didn’t want to make the wrong noise, so she gestured for him to come and seat. He smiled, and nodded, and said thanks. And she loved his tone of voice. To think she had been worrying about who and how many sat next to her.

“I’m Sunny. Nice to meet you.” She herself made the little boy scoot over so he could come and seat next to her. Forget the tightness and stress. Suddenly, bus rides had never been better.