Plastic Seat

Stiff from riding all day, plastic leather seats sticking to my clothes on the dirty city bus. Exhausted from grinding brakes filling my ears, diesel fumes filling my nose and selfish people jostling me like cattle. Stop after stop looking for something, anything that might give me a clue as to why.

Stop after stop Vagabonds pressing their faces against the windows, I wonder if we share the same longings or are they but animals looking for something to steal, looking to feed a primal need far divorced from what I seek. The bus driver guns the engine sending a shudder into their bodies, they shuffle back with only their plaintive gaze intact.

Day passes into night with every stop becoming the same, no recognition in anyones eyes. I ask the same questions as people board, each bus driver shakes their head no, no they have not seen me before, no they can’t help me. I sit down again in the back watching each passenger get on then off, watching crowds rise then dwindle with each new bus coming and going.

Something turns into nothing as my hope melts into the plastic seats on another city bus, no longer seeking recognition or clues, now only hoping for a place to lay my head, maybe a place with the vagabonds and their eternal primal urges.

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