6:54 am on the Bus

I'm on the bus again, going to jury duty for the first time. I was surprised at the line of people waiting for this bus, surprised we all fit onto it. I wished that smelly guy had taken a shower this morning. 

People watching with music in my ears is amazing. It's so full, people have to stand. Some people read. Some wear earbuds. Some just sit and stare into the inner space in front of them. We share a destination, but not a common focus. I wish I could see book titles. Outside the window is a dark abstract of lights. We could be driving straight down into hell and I'd never know the difference. 

The guy across from me wears a dark blue suit, a line green shirt and a power tie.  He's young and has just gotten his hair cut. I want to wish him luck with his interview at Amazon. He has that applied look of self-confidence that freshouts try to adopt. I wonder if he believes it. Maybe by the time he's fifty-three, like I am, he'll have fewer answers. Maybe he'll have more a sense of the chaotic glory of it all. 

I'm listening to Jason Mraz on my iPhone. I love that with the new IOS system, I can wake up to my music. I'm going to keep it running as long as I can today before my battery sags. 

 It isn't even 7:00 am. This time, as I boarded the bus, I intentionally chose to sit in the crack, the part at the front of the trailer, surrounded by pleated plastic. I like how I'm between two places, in the part that moves, looking in  either direction at an angle, even folding up a bit as we go around corners. I wonder if I will also be in awe of the space between life and death when it comes along. 

Thank you for listening, JB