The bus slowed down and pulled over to drop off and pick up. I focused briefly out the window to make sure I hadn't missed my stop; preparing to make a mad dash out the door in attempts to to refrain from further inconveniencing my self, if I had.
'A few more..', I thought, relaxing back in the seat.
I was tired.. I had just gotten out of work about a half hour ago.
I left earlier than normal in order to engage in a passive public transit experience. I was not in the mood for people today.
Transportation device wasn't packed at all. Actually it was almost empty.
Its hard to pin specific points in time that seem so alarmingly important, when suddenly one realizes about them self something out of balance that seems to have taken an unknowing while to prepare.
Reasoning.... 'why?' And 'how?' And... all that stuff.
Might set a person down to spend more time to reflect all those possible questions.
Then chase that with the pressure of solving this current mystery in an efficient manner, and the result is even more unsettling than the initial discovery.
I've been through this before though. So as most individuals who have dealt with certain experiences, which may be difficult the first go round, I have come to terms with repetition and the certain comfort it brings. 'Old hand... or old hat?...whichever it is...' The feeling is so familiar and unresolved. And even though said crises may be of different or similar topic the feeling is almost exactly identical as to the previous.
And the best way to describe this would be like: absolutely needing to accomplish the most mundane, yet necessary tasks one may be required to maintain the orderly life they have built up for them self in a matter of moments. Only the tasks needed to be executed have never yet been fully introduced to the pattern. Only thought of. Pondered. All those wonderfully time consuming activities that all seem to file under some hobby classification. Because there is probably no way in hell that you could ever obtain the level of masterful excellence that is truly desired... or required to toss aside the all those other boring actions that have long since worn in the groove of convenience. And within this large ellipsis creates smaller running circles that draws out an image which looks similar to a spiro-graph. A whole mental microcosm keeping the afflicted contained to stay the course, consume, and otherwise stimulate those surrounding- who appear to have somehow acquired the ability to span over so much more space at such a quicker rate... How ever that became.
So with all this in mind, I sat comfortably while male instinct recommends that visually undressed the woman sitting a few feet away: for a moment or two. She is preoccupied with a book. Wholesome in appearance. And, therefore supple in mind and body. Here her breasts perfectly combine all aspects which concern sizing. Providing confidence without interference. Modest but not too humble.
I was knocked from this fantasy, though, by the mother and child sitting in the seat in front of me, that faced me.
And I could never understand the reasoning behind this particular seating arrangement on the bus either. To have two sets of seats that face the opposite direction to all the other seats on the bus, with the exception of the seats with the back along the wall, creating a corral for wheeled chairs aiding those whom are mobily impaired. Other people feel the same way too. We've talked about it. Reasoning that: this doesn't really save space. The seats are still the same size, no matter which direction they face. I would guess that a select few just feel more comfortable going backwards. I mean, it doesn't really matter to me, to ride sitting with my back to the front of the bus, but, why?... And yet, that was my very positioning...
This kid was looking all around at nothing in particular with his teeth clenched and grinning, his body slightly bent forward, lightly resting the fronts of his teeth on the hand bar, which he was holding, attached the the back of the seat in front of him. A true daredevil laughing in the face of potential detriment. I could almost feel the vibrations he must feel. The cold metal. Hearing the faint rattling. A percussion track for the vibrations created by the friction of inflated rubber carrying weight by tons over pavement. Once his mother realized what he was doing, she of course demanded he stop at once. Lightly slapping him upside the forehead, reminding him how stupid he is. Attempting to knock some sense to him. Which he felt, and did stop long enough for his mother to think it made a lasting impression serving as lesson, but promptly going right back to it. His mother had some issues of her own to contend with as she gazed out the window consumed with thought. She was no longer paying attention to him and I wondered if she too was as taken with those same supple breasts the way I was.
I was one stop away from departure when a moment of slowness took over the bus. There was an interference with the path on the street. Somehow we came to an abrupt halt. And a lot of noise followed. Mechanical and human noises. The object the bus hit isn't so much important as the happenings within. The momentum carried every passenger forward enough to stir each one up. Except for: 'that guy who is still snoozing' once the bus reaches the end of the line, that the driver has to personally wake up, in order for him make his departure.
Since that day I must have replayed the scene over in my head umpteen times.
Every passenger on the bus had their own unique reaction. Some responded verbally. Others simply treat it like another turn on the street. That attractive young woman looked up and made a surprised face like she just sat in something cold and wet... All unique. They all own, their own reactions. Though, the ones most remarkable was that of the young boy and his mother sitting in front of me.
Now.. When a moving vehicle stops so sudden, the objects within the vessel which are not fixed and actually secured anywhere to it, will attempt to continue forward unless an entity which has harnessed the natural ability to balance has shifted weight to counter the jolt; or a collision within the vessel's perimeter occurs. This explanation is of course elementary, however I felt was necessary to include to lead up to the point. After the bus was no longer in motion the kid who once owned a nice set of chompers was left with a red caverness mess. For that split second right after initial teeth to bar contact had been made, I was close enough to see the roots of the teeth, before the vision was obstructed by copious amounts of freshly oxidized blood.
This actually reminds me of a story my mother occasionally tells about me.
When I was a wee lad of no more than 2 years, I was often discontented to the confines of my crib.
Notorious for being an escape artist and quietly showing up in areas of the house where my mother would unexpectedly find me stacking objects; she said one time I made an attempted break by climbing over the bars of my crib. She was downstairs tending to other motherly maintenance, under the impression that I was fast asleep. She heard a loud thump, she came running upstairs, to find me quietly crawling on the ground in a daze, slugging a red trail behind me. The front few teeth had hinged back and locked open. I must have fallen teeth first on my face. Creating a veritable faucet stuck on open. This could probably be considered traumatizing for some.
Anyway.
My eyes met with the kid's for that split second before his mother had realized what had happened. He didn't make a sound. And she screamed something frantic. Looking aimlessly calling for help in intervals of cursing him for 'being such moron'.
As the central lights dim down a spot light is formed.
[One of his teeth had dropped from his mouth and bounced a few feet away in front of a vagabond looking character. The tooth let out a small twinkle catching the weathered woman's eye. She quickly snatched it up an secured it to a spot where she once long ago owned a tooth. She smiled widely, and prospected an evening of crunching her way through a bag of Tootsie Pops. Oh happy days are here again!]
The End.
