Just another man on a bus
It’s early morning and dark when I leave the house to walk to the bus stop, but I make it there without incident. I am vigilant when I walk: I move with confidence and intention, eyes open to who and what is sharing the sidewalk with me. When I arrive at the stop, a few other harmless commuters are already there. We wait together, in silence, just wanting the bus to pick us up, which it does. We are in that pre-work state of automatic motion that takes us from home to office or school. We are together on the bus, but in co-existence not cooperation. Empty seats are few, but I spy one towards the back. Or, rather, part of the seat is empty. A good portion of it is being occupied by the person spilling over from their side of what should be an equally shared space. Nonetheless, I sit down, not wanting to not claim my rightful spot on the bus, which is a public good for all. I settle myself onto the seat, trying to inch my way onto my full allotment of the ...