Transit

The road detangled itself before the under-appreciated Burlington Transit bus.Complicated networks of streets and avenues unwound like yarn before my eyes. Who knew a bus ride could be so tantalizing, yet so subtle. Beneath the roar and hum of the bus, a profound silence revealed itself. In that instance, I took note of the public who utilize public transit, all of whom were so discouraged by the rain which pitter-pattered against the cold steel box. Encased in this little capsol the public revealed their true colors, and emotions. Hidden from the scowling eye of society, they divulged themselves.

Those who almost excrete confidence struggling to contain themselves. Constantly twitching, opening and closing their cell phones in hopes that the friction created would manifest a message in their inbox. A 30 second high until insecurity sets in once again.

Old women playing with their hair, grasping anything and everything within arms reach to reassure themselves of their existence on this earth. Young men glancing back and fourth between other men, not because of homo-sexuality, but because of a need to belong somewhere.

The immense silence which seemed to span hours came to a halt as I realized my location. Nostalgia then ensued