blankwithoutyou

0158. as the bus slowed to a halt at its berth, my brain instructed my legs to carry me down the line and up to the entrance through practiced mechanical routine. the little card reader buzzed and i let myself slide into one of the many weathered but smooth synthetic leather seats.

as the vehicle traveled towards home, the trees and buildings crawled past the large glass panel in an orderly fashion. hazy lights from passing cars on the opposite lane eased across, then before leaving the commercial area at the bus interchange, the ugly hue of vomit pink crept by.

beyond that was a straight stretch of orange street lights and tainted yellow and white markings on the tar road. the red traffic lights seemed to flicker like a lethargic sloth, somewhat like how this final bus trip for the day is feeling like so far.

at long last, which timed about roughly 8 minutes, the gigantic double-decker arrived at my stop. i found myself standing at a familiar bus shelter as the bus took off, leaving behind a cloud of invisible carbon monoxide.

and as if in mockery that the night has grown thin and my brain screaming for a little oxygen, i yawned.

tears of sleepiness welled up in my eyes.