From the Bus Window

going home one time and i found a paper on the bus seat. couldn't resist it.

I can never really tell the difference between a sunrise and a sunset if I am to wake up while either is happening.

 

They are, to me, both the same. Perhaps it is because I look much on the distant mountains where my home hides or perhaps I am too preoccupied with homesickness to decide.

 

When I took the high school diploma, I was thinking that college would be just next door. I was then surprised by my first trip. I swallowed Bonamine, carried my bags, chewed a piece of gum, boarded the bus — inhaled its distinctive perfume — and rode the long road away from the mountains. It was hell boring. I looked often at my phone and hoped for a reply to my: “The bus is on”, “I see the sea from my window,” and “I see the sun, too.”

 

Unfortunately, no reply came.

 

I just looked at the sun from my heavily-tinted window and decided, at last, that it will never slow down from its heartbeat setting.