Laziness

     Yesterday I noticed that the bus smelled musty. Like urine, perhaps,-- but of course that's such an arrogant way of portraying public transportation. It's amazing how bleak the world is, I notice as it passes me by. When I'm high in my cushioned plastic seat, zooming through the Bronx, I have the luxury to condemn others. I note their weariness, their unsightly bodies, their quick eyes darting to be noticed, and scorn them all. The whole environment seems dirty, and the black wrought iron fences are jarring against the thin sky. I am looking through unclean glass, so perhaps my perceptions are distorted in the glare.
     When I get to my stop, I trudge off the bus, and sigh as the doors open. I'm slapped in the face. A gust of wind, a wonderful way of clearing my vision, and the world is crisp and clean and busy again.