Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The 850 on a Wednesday Morning

Riding on the bus this gray morning. A man with a goatee asks a woman in a beanie two rows away how her kids are. Apparently they know each other. She tells her sad story. He tells his. One of them works too hard at a low-paying job. The other has cancer. They laugh about it. Maybe they didn't know each other. Maybe they just met. A kid with a sharp part in his hair interrupts them to ask about the Front Runner. Immediately maps and transit routes are pulled out and everyone seems to have a different opinion on how to go about it. The boy nods his head, looking more confused than ever, but the other two are happy to have helped. The group conversation turns to fish sticks.

I'm not sure why I'm writing any of this down as I eavesdrop, but people-watching is one of my favorite hobbies. I suppose I just find people interesting. It's a strange thing how we all live our separate lives, weaving in and out of others and their lives, yet somehow we bump elbows and pause just enough to make some sort of connection, even if it's with a stranger on a bus.

We need each other, don't we?

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