Clouds of Smoke

January 19, 2018
By Anonymous

I step out
into the hazy nothingness,
the buildings around me
engulfed by clouds of gray.
I can almost taste the chemical scent
wafting from my mask,
overpowering my senses.
It is almost worse than the smog.
The minutes tick by
1… 2… 3…
By the time my bus rolls around
pumping grey smoke into the air,
I feel as if I have become one with the
swirling tendrils surrounding me.
There is no end to where my conscious ends
and the smog begins.
We are one.
The bus throws us around,
The white masks obscuring our identities .
“SCREECH,” the bus rolls to a stop, the noise slicing through the air.
The glass door opens wide,
the smell of gasoline shooting up my nose.
People around me step off the bus,
disappearing into the haziness.

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