Each morning on the way to work, I drive by a corner bus stop where 5-10 kids gather to start their day. Everything else about the drive, especially till that point, is exactly the same each day. Same lanes, same neighborhood traffic, and the occasional sound of garbage trucks plying their trade. The one thing that’s always different is that street.
Whether it’s a passerby doing something notable or one of the kids showboating for the others, someone’s always up to something in an otherwise timeless road. The spheres of our existence don’t cross for very long, but each morning I get a brief glimpse of how their day might unfold. Is everybody in a good mood? Are they all laughing this morning, or is everyone passing the minutes in tedium?
I remember when I used to wait at the bus stop, and sometimes it seemed like the frame of mind I found myself in pre-bus ride would shape the rest of my day. Some mornings, if I was feeling right, it made the high points soar higher and the bullshit from certain other kids blur into noise.
Whatever lay in store for them, whatever lay in store for me, events that would ricochet into existence.
It’s small and simple moment, especially if I’ve had a particularly balls-to-the-wall week and have been isolated with work. Like they said in Crash, sometimes we scurry about so fast it’s refreshing to crash into somebody’s reality (figuratively). Moments like that are a refreshing bit of humanity in the flux.