(no subject)
"I'm wandering in fields of monotonous vibrancy but searching only for myself."
My bus got lost yesterday morning.
After getting off on the wrong exit, the driver had to follow a detour through a part of the city he did not seem to know very well.
Am I just as lost? Have I taken a wrong exit? Did I start down a path that has now taken me on a detour?
My life feels just as misplaced as that bus, wandering the streets of the north shore, the tips of dawn illuminating its path.
We passed an accident. It was 6:52 in the morning.
First I saw a woman, surrounded by police men and paramedics. She was sitting up, supported only by the wall behind her as she was put into a neck brace.
Several feet away from the woman was the accident. Metal scrunched into forms that seemed physically impossible.
A piece of a car lay in the middle of the road.
Nearing an ambulance I saw the other victim. She lay on a stretcher, completely immobile. She was in a neck and head brace and most of her body was covered in a sheet. As the bus came closer to her corner of the world, I saw the dried blood on the side of her face, melding with her blond hair.
And just like that, it was part of the past. Something that would only remain as a memory for me. A moment that I shared with other bus patrons, with those police men and paramedics.
With those two women.
And I couldn't help but wonder if I somehow knew those women. Perhaps I had waited on one of them at one of my jobs. Or perhaps I've passed one of them on the street everyday and never noticed her.
I hoped that they would be okay.
The bus did eventually find it's way back, of course.
But I'm still hunting.
My bus got lost yesterday morning.
After getting off on the wrong exit, the driver had to follow a detour through a part of the city he did not seem to know very well.
Am I just as lost? Have I taken a wrong exit? Did I start down a path that has now taken me on a detour?
My life feels just as misplaced as that bus, wandering the streets of the north shore, the tips of dawn illuminating its path.
We passed an accident. It was 6:52 in the morning.
First I saw a woman, surrounded by police men and paramedics. She was sitting up, supported only by the wall behind her as she was put into a neck brace.
Several feet away from the woman was the accident. Metal scrunched into forms that seemed physically impossible.
A piece of a car lay in the middle of the road.
Nearing an ambulance I saw the other victim. She lay on a stretcher, completely immobile. She was in a neck and head brace and most of her body was covered in a sheet. As the bus came closer to her corner of the world, I saw the dried blood on the side of her face, melding with her blond hair.
And just like that, it was part of the past. Something that would only remain as a memory for me. A moment that I shared with other bus patrons, with those police men and paramedics.
With those two women.
And I couldn't help but wonder if I somehow knew those women. Perhaps I had waited on one of them at one of my jobs. Or perhaps I've passed one of them on the street everyday and never noticed her.
I hoped that they would be okay.
The bus did eventually find it's way back, of course.
But I'm still hunting.