Returning – Friday,
4.16p.m., 9 December 2011
We’re pretty packed. There’s the danger that as we pick
others up along the way, I might have to offer my seat. Usually this is not a
problem. But, today it would mean not being able to write down my thoughts. So,
fingers crossed, although not mine, because I wouldn’t be able to continue
writing. I love metaphors for this reason. You can say and really mean them,
but not actually have to do what they entail.
An eclectic bunch right now. Real mix of young, not as
young, elderly, and male and female. Where are they all going? What’s their
story? (Should I interview them?)
People are looking pretty dazed. Probably due to the end of
the working week… (we just stopped to collect two people. Fortunately they’re
not the type I’d normally get up for, like the elderly or pregnant. That was
lucky. Both of them are dressed totally in black, are independent of each other
and don’t seem to be servers – what’s the story? – Should I…?)… anyway, these people
and their daze. It’s a universal equation. 1 daze = 5 days of work.
The banter slowly rises. Maybe people are nearing their
destinations and perking up a bit. Makes sense.
One of the daily sights I enjoy on the bus is the lanky
agapanthus dotting the way. Such simple beauty – a neatly arranged and
well-formed clump of bluey purple resting on a green, slender, stalky body.
They’re so upright looking, and some have a nicely curved stalk that reminds us
gravity isn’t persuaded by good looks. Plus, they remind me of my boyhood in
mum’s well-tended garden. Her agapanthus are still there, to this pen stroke. I
used to get in trouble from mum for karate chopping the heads off a few of
them. One day a bee stung my right hand for these callous beheadings.
Some complain about bus travel – I have before. But as a
convert I say it’s not all bad. I mean the Brits did base a TV series on buses
called “On the Buses” even though it mainly focused on the bus drivers. Still,
we’re talking about buses. Have you ever sat down to a TV series called “On the
Trains”? Don’t think so.
“Fox on the Run” is playing on the bus radio this second. I
never knew what this song title was about. Another detail in life for my eager
fingers to Google and discover. Thanks, www dot whatever I choose.
There’s a guy standing right next to the green ticket
machine opposite me. He’s in clear view and wearing green shoes and sports (who
says that now?) a green cap on his small head of greasy, un-kept hair. Who said
lime green wasn’t popular for dressing in? (The ticket machine looks fine, so
does Kermit the Frog).
I all of a sudden realise that this bus has become a messy
mass of people. It reminds me of a vertical version of a matchbox – matches lying
every which way, all jumbled and criss-crossed.
I’ll be out of this tangled matchbox and walking home in
about thirty seconds.
