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The bus ride home
9 years ago
I think I have more fun thinking about what I want to write as opposed to actually writing it. I guess at first I wanted to talk about my contented sigh. I'm not happy, just okay or vice versa.
A man just got on, sat across from me, wraith like but looking healthy enough. He's wearing shorts and I was immediately drawn to cuts on his lower legs- evenly spaced like that of an animal attack, however these were deep and too far away from any extreme in size. Perhaps it was not an animal then? Maybe a tackle gone wrong in the park, playing football. No sign of any mud though. Not even evidence of it being washed away. Then, going back to the animal attack. It is entirely possible that he suffers form some kind of dietary deficiency- which could be inferred by his skeletal figure. This causing him to be all the more worse off when his skin is broken, his wounds taking longer to heal and so looking slight more inflamed. There is another series of similar marks further up however, these are fainter and the outside cut streaches out further than the others.
He takes a moment to observe the cuts, feeling the texture of the coagulated scab. This might suggest that they are recent but not too much so, as stated before the skins inflammation is concentrated close to the cuts. That, or he's noticed my gaze and so become more conscious of himself and the cuts on his leg.
The woman across from him has taken off her shoe, her foot appears to have been wrapped in some kind of ankle support. Not much is to be gained from this. She is adorned in sports gear but this could be for various reasons that having nothing to do with her exercise rutieen. They could simply be for comfort as the lose elastic fit sit Nicly over her larger form. I would surmise that at some point she has twisted her anckle quite seriously either during work or in her leisure time. And that she places self comfort over social etiquette, having now removed her other shoe and resting both upon the seats in front of her. The smell isn't exactly pleasant and she is ignoring the 'no feet on the seats please' that blare out with their vibrant yellows and reds.
Another passenger looks over a small stuffed giraffe before placing it back into a bag. Maybe inspecting a gift, imagining the response of the recipient. Life often feels like this, it being more about how you depict it. So even if the thing gets a negative response, you will have lived in that simulation of happiness and pride for having done a good thing.
Outside, passing through the small village. A woman is pulled along by her daughter. She is caring flowers and wine. The gift of flowers is unique in its seemingly limited application. They usably have to meet some requirement before they become considered as an acceptable gift and stereotypically one for a woman. Had she received the flowers or were they a gift for another... Or has she just decided to buy some? The wine would suggest something closer to the former.
Another mother pulls her son along and he zips along in rollerblades as they giggle and laugh at what ever each had said to the other. Further on a young man stares greedily over the counter of the local chippy- possibly flirting with whom ever behind the counter.
The fellow who usually smells of rotten cabbage has just gotten off the bus. I would suppose much to the relief of those sitting near him up stairs. I wonder if he is simply used to the smell which, is why he always smells of it.
I guess my stop is coming up now and didn't actually say anything I wanted to. I just have so much time on the bus haha, I thought observing might make it pass faster.
A man just got on, sat across from me, wraith like but looking healthy enough. He's wearing shorts and I was immediately drawn to cuts on his lower legs- evenly spaced like that of an animal attack, however these were deep and too far away from any extreme in size. Perhaps it was not an animal then? Maybe a tackle gone wrong in the park, playing football. No sign of any mud though. Not even evidence of it being washed away. Then, going back to the animal attack. It is entirely possible that he suffers form some kind of dietary deficiency- which could be inferred by his skeletal figure. This causing him to be all the more worse off when his skin is broken, his wounds taking longer to heal and so looking slight more inflamed. There is another series of similar marks further up however, these are fainter and the outside cut streaches out further than the others.
He takes a moment to observe the cuts, feeling the texture of the coagulated scab. This might suggest that they are recent but not too much so, as stated before the skins inflammation is concentrated close to the cuts. That, or he's noticed my gaze and so become more conscious of himself and the cuts on his leg.
The woman across from him has taken off her shoe, her foot appears to have been wrapped in some kind of ankle support. Not much is to be gained from this. She is adorned in sports gear but this could be for various reasons that having nothing to do with her exercise rutieen. They could simply be for comfort as the lose elastic fit sit Nicly over her larger form. I would surmise that at some point she has twisted her anckle quite seriously either during work or in her leisure time. And that she places self comfort over social etiquette, having now removed her other shoe and resting both upon the seats in front of her. The smell isn't exactly pleasant and she is ignoring the 'no feet on the seats please' that blare out with their vibrant yellows and reds.
Another passenger looks over a small stuffed giraffe before placing it back into a bag. Maybe inspecting a gift, imagining the response of the recipient. Life often feels like this, it being more about how you depict it. So even if the thing gets a negative response, you will have lived in that simulation of happiness and pride for having done a good thing.
Outside, passing through the small village. A woman is pulled along by her daughter. She is caring flowers and wine. The gift of flowers is unique in its seemingly limited application. They usably have to meet some requirement before they become considered as an acceptable gift and stereotypically one for a woman. Had she received the flowers or were they a gift for another... Or has she just decided to buy some? The wine would suggest something closer to the former.
Another mother pulls her son along and he zips along in rollerblades as they giggle and laugh at what ever each had said to the other. Further on a young man stares greedily over the counter of the local chippy- possibly flirting with whom ever behind the counter.
The fellow who usually smells of rotten cabbage has just gotten off the bus. I would suppose much to the relief of those sitting near him up stairs. I wonder if he is simply used to the smell which, is why he always smells of it.
I guess my stop is coming up now and didn't actually say anything I wanted to. I just have so much time on the bus haha, I thought observing might make it pass faster.
