Transient Bus Rider
He boards the bus from the same bus stop at the same time everyday. Just like many other commuters hoping to arrive to work on time. He carries the same cardboard box with printed orange dots, gently carrying it like a tray balancing cocktail glasses.
Inside this box is his life. One plastic gallon milk jug, filled to half with water. A sandwich carefully wrapped in an overly used plastic baggy. A small transistor radio repair kit neatly organized in its milky plastic case, a small plastic bag filled with nuts to get him through his day.
He wears the same gray polyester pants and button down shirt every day. His shirt has seen better days. It is ripped at the shoulder and you can see his white undershirt sneaking through the frayed edges of the hole. Today he wore a knit cap and a jumper, it’s been a bit colder this week.
On his head he always wears wireless head phones. Is he listening to the news? I bet he’s listening to National Public Radio, he could be an informed man. His feet are puzzling. His shoes are always covered, wrapped tightly with plastic produce bags from the grocery. I’m sure his shoes last longer if they aren’t constantly exposed to the rain. Is he protecting them from something else that he heard about in his headphone radio station?
He’s usually clean shaven. His light brown skin is lightly freckled and without his knit cap his hair is neatly trimmed. He speaks to no one in fact, when he sits, he closes his eyes. Is it us he is trying to block out? Maybe if he closes his eyes no one can see him?
I can still see him but, I can only see his shell.
The limits of my eyes only cause more questions.
