On A Bus

August 31, 2010
By Mojojo879 BRONZE, Teaneck, New Jersey
Mojojo879 BRONZE, Teaneck, New Jersey
2 articles 0 photos 3 comments

As he walked by, he stepped on my foot. It was hard enough to hurt. I watched the people. They got on, and they got off. Some people sat, others didn’t. It was because there was no more room, I suppose.

A strange fellow sat three rows up from me. He was strange, from behind at least. He seemed to be smiling. I can always tell when someone’s smiling. It’s strange for a man like him to be smiling. You would understand why if you saw him. He was a strange fellow; he was dressed in a weird, stiff way. His clothing sharply cut in a dull gray color. He wore a coat, different from one I had ever seen. It was solid, sturdy. His hair was cut shorter than any man I had ever met. I didn’t understand this strange fellow, or why he would be smiling.

In the seat across from me, sat a woman. I didn’t like her. I could tell she wasn’t my kind of people. She was different, that’s all. She had a lot of bags. It was too many for one person to own. One person couldn’t have any use for all those bags. She had an endless amount. I guess she was a collector of them.

The person next to me was quiet. Obtrusively quiet, in my opinion. The type of person who is looking at you, but when you look back they turn their heads. I hate quiet people. The person next to me kept opening his mouth to say something, then closing it. Sometimes people shouldn’t hold themselves back. He looked pained, like his words were getting stuck in his throat, making him look all itchy and uncomfortable. It’s dangerous to hold it in sometimes. That’s what I always say, ask anyone.

Especially ask Fred, the bus driver. He’ll always tell the truth. Sometimes Fred tells too much truth. I don’t think that one has anything to filter out his mouth. I don’t think he gets that truth can be like a pretty new shoe. It always looks nice, but it doesn’t always feel too right. Yeah, that Fred needs someone to sit him down and tell him things. But don’t look at me, I’d never tell someone how to be.

I didn’t always understand the people on the bus. They were all so strange and different from me. I’m the type of person that would not say anything, however. So I just sit quietly on the bus each day because, it would be rude to say something, I think.

The author's comments:
Sometimes people say things they shouldn't, and sometimes people only dream of saying things they shouldn't.

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