Member-only story
Vignette #1
It’s the last time I will cross this bridge for a while.
This was the bridge to a new career.
This was a bridge to my own healing.
It’s the last time I will try to avoid the guy sitting directly above me with his laser-focused camera hanging and affixed tightly to his mini scooter on this rickety bus surveying whatever oddities he can chronicle.
The last time the bus will get cut off and I will hit my head against the plush seat in front of me. The last time I will see one of my favorite bus drivers who always greets me with an emphatic, “Good morning, and “How are you?”
I won’t be riding with Stormin’ Stan anymore as he video chats with his wife and kids and talks about the goldfish he will bring to them after working a fourteen-hour day at the construction site. He sleeps only three hours a day. He’s as kind as a koala. He arrives home at 10 p.m. every night then does it all over again a few short hours later.
I won’t be arguing with said bus line for not arriving and forcing me to spend money I don’t have on an Uber.
I won’t be running for the bus, red-eyed and with a grand headache and a cup of coffee trying to get absent Wi-Fi and holding onto the last battery charge in my phone stranded again at night in a bar while charging…
