on the express bus headed south, despite nearing rush hour on a friday, traffic is modest.
busses are interesting public places. you can get a stong sense of your community demographic, the clothes that people wear, the language (or lack thereof) that we use, the way they interact & how group dynamic is altered due to the presence of certain personalities present, et cetera, et cetera.
on this particular bus, there are a wide range of ages present. no one is talking, yet a number of people are communicating--in similar fashion to this. the air is too cold for everyone. the lurching bus-sashay of the shifting gears and hard breaking stops is pronounced even further by the giant frame's response to the wear in the roadway.
ding. it's my stop.
No comments:
Post a Comment