There is a certain happiness sighted when your bus comes along. It is of course a small specialized form of happiness and will never be a great thing.

-Richard Brautigan, The Old Bus

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

The house guest

The bus turned the corner and I could see the woman waiting, seated on the bench inside the bus stop shelter. I recognized her. She was the same woman I mentioned in yesterday's post, the woman left at the stop as the bus rolled by.

As the driver completed the turn, he slowed the bus and pulled to the curb. The woman inside the bus stop shelter made no move to get up from the bench. She sat impassive to the bus and the invitation of its physical presence.

The driver did not open the door to ask if the woman wanted to board. There was no point. The woman's fixed glare was unequivocal. This bus was unwanted.

The bus pulled away from the curb and continued down the street, leaving the bus stop house guest unmoved.

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