Does time move fast or does my memory just get worse? My thoughts chug along on their destination, it’s all a bit hazy, but I’m sure they’re on the right track.
What did I even do the past year? How’d I make it here? All thoughts running around aimlessly, seemingly in grasp, but never caught.
Suddenly my bus slowed to a stop and the conductor, wearing an oversized name tag and an indecipherable name, sprung out of their chair and forced us along the narrow hallway down to the street.
“But this isn’t our stop,” the couple in front of me whispered. It wasn’t mine either.
What were we doing? Where am I? Proceeding down the steps felt like slowly walking into an air fryer, with each step increasing the temperature. I took my last step out of the bus onto the uneven concrete below me. I was already drenched in sweat.
The street had no lanes but was just wide enough for 3 vans to drive next to each other comfortably. Despite its size, the street could really only accommodate 2 lanes, as the adjacent houses ran up right to the street. There was no breathing room for a sidewalk, greenery, or even people, yet there we were.
I looked around, hoping to identify the reason for our abrupt stop. Steam appeared to be coming out from the back of the bus, no, not steam, smoke. Above me, I saw the incoming clouds which seemed to offer a solution if a flame were to break out. However, the smoke remained unremarkably low, allowing the potential storm to worsen the mood.
The conductor, seemingly finished with any immediate responsibilities, addressed the passengers after 5 unbroken minutes of scrambling around the bus. He then began his clearly unprepared speech, and I just sat there. Unfortunately, I couldn’t understand a single word they said. I noticed the bus driver on his phone in the back of the bus. I assumed they were describing where we had stopped to the person on the other line as they seemed lost, scattering glances at every street corner.
It seemed to me that everything would be taken care of in due time, or maybe I just didn’t care to learn the truth.
Who knows how long we had to wait? Actually, it seems like everyone knows but me. The conductor pushed steam at the tip of his head in a winless argument, while the passengers bickered in self-righteous anger. Of course, I wasn’t listening to them, nor did I intend to try and understand. I was just looking for a place to go to the bathroom and knew that if things really got bad, the information would find its way to me, directly or indirectly.
I set off to find a bathroom and stumbled on an open storefront. I figured there had to be some sort of bathroom here, so I proceeded to look around. My efforts proved to be in vain, so I grabbed a cold glass of tea instead and gave up on my intrepid search.
I walked out and felt like I was amidst nothingness, I mean there’s a highway, and some buildings, but it all amounts to nothing. It was as if this place exists solely for transient beings, to be viewed through the glass of a bus, as you sit soaking in your thoughts, romanticizing your life with music blasting through your headphones separating you from the reality surrounding you.
I saw a vehicle parked across the street from the bus. No one seemed to be attending to the car, and the other side had a patch of grass. It seemed as good a place as any to call a bathroom. Looking both ways before crossing the road, I briskly walked over. The patch of grass beside the vehicle had ample privacy, a perfect spot. Regardless, I swiftly moved my eyes side to side at the perception of the smallest movement, anxiously waiting to finish and move on.
Feeling slightly ashamed, I zipped up and attempted to reintegrate into the mass of people on the other side of the street, crossing once again, but this time at a gradual pace.
Everyone seemed to be staring at me, or at least they seemed to be averting their eyes when mine had glanced at theirs. Was my zipper down? Or does everyone know what I did on the other side of the street?
Laughter broke out amongst a group of three, two seemed to be part of a couple, the laughter arising from presumably the third wheel. Were they laughing at me? Why would they even laugh at me? I watched as they slowly lifted their arm to drink from the sweating can of soda.
That’s right! I had some tea, but first I wanted a seat. A quick glance at my surroundings made it obvious that I wasn’t gonna find a seat for comfort. Instead, I opted to squat, heels remaining firmly on the ground. A nice stretch, but not sustainable for the entirety of my stay along the side of this street.
Firmly squatted on the ground, I opened my bottle of tea and enjoyed a sip of the lukewarm liquid. My tongue squirmed in the presence of immense amounts of sugar, a taste easy to get used to but overwhelming at first.
Was I still being stared at?
I remained squatted, feeling hyper-aware of my person, unable to delve into my thoughts as I had before. Despite sitting in close quarters with these people while traveling on the bus, their presence seemed heightened when standing together in a half-circle around the car. We stood waiting, for who knows how long. People chatted amongst themselves and laughed, and the conductor wandered around making side comments at the crowd of passengers, I sat there with my mind, still thinking I was being stared at.
In the distance, a van sped around the corner, shrieking to a stop directly behind the bus. The rain had started, seeming to ease the smoke but giving no respite to my thoughts of a potential crash. No such crash happened, was I the only one to think that was possible?
The door swung open into the street without hesitation, and the driver hopped out of the van as if they were the only person in the world. Wearing the same outfit as the bus driver, I assumed they worked for the same company. With a mix of joy and haste in each step, this new driver made His way to smoke. He quickly glanced at the passengers and yelled some words with a beckoning hand gesture. A swarm of passengers headed towards this new van. There seemed no way all these passengers would fit, but one by one, 10 maybe 15 people were lost from view as they crammed into this van about a quarter of the size of the bus from earlier.
I remained squatted amongst a group of about 35 remaining individuals. Surely we would fit in the next van, right? Would there be a second van? Should I have made my way to that first van? No, that driver seemed careless. I wondered what other people were thinking; the staring seemed to simmer. I settled in, no longer squatting, but at least I was comfortable.
A new van turned the corner, and things unfolded exactly as before: a shrieking stop, a quick glance, mumbled words, and a beckoning gesture. However, this time I found myself among the throng of people advancing toward the van. There was no way we could all fit, so I hastened my pace to get the most comfortable seat.
I had arrived by the sliding door of the van, a cool breeze washing over me. I was the first to arrive and had free choice to pick my seat. Which one should I take? Which one would offer the most comfort? All thoughts rushed through my brain as I entered the van, it felt like autopilot when I found myself directly behind the driver seat sitting down. There was adequate legroom and a window seemed to offer a small comfort. I sat there being squished as each successive human found space in the small confines of the van. At least the fan was blowing directly on my face.
Eventually, the doors closed, and the driver buckled in. The van started moving toward our destination. The unexpected stop slowly faded away behind us, becoming once again a nondescript location at the side of a highway, returning to its former form as an unexpected place for transients.
I stared out the window and found myself caught in the trance of my thoughts.
What just happened? How’d we get here? All thoughts running around aimlessly, seemingly in grasp, but never caught.
It seemed as if I had spent an eternity at that stop, never to arrive at my final destination.
Did time slow down when I stopped along the highway, or was I just hyper-aware of myself and others? My thoughts spun around as if on a neverending carousel.
I leaned back, remembering our unexpected stop was only halfway to where I was supposed to go. I let my thoughts run as I stared at the shifting landscapes along the highway. Each place offers an unexpected stop for transients.
Suddenly we screeched to a halt, pulling me out of my absentia. We had arrived.
Turn off the Bright Lights 