Blessed Calm

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Ileave my house late. But I am calm. Down stone stairs. Left. Left again. I know this walk to the bus stop well. Familiarity soothes me and midmorning wraps an encouraging arm around my shoulders the air thick and yellow with sunlight filtering through a haze of matted clouds. It will be fine.

Quick bus ride. Short walk. Seemingly interminable wait for another bus while I note that my cell phone is dead. But I don’t need to check the time obsessively or feverishly solve mathematical equations whose answers tell me how many minutes and seconds late I probably will be….
When the bus arrives there is standing room only. I wedge myself between an empty battered gray stroller and a familiar face I meet by chance and she is wearing a watch. I smile and ask for the time and I do the math while chatting.

I’m inside my head thinking distractedly hoping hoping. A navy-capped officer heads toward me scanning bus cards proffered by so many outstretched hands. He returns my friend’s card she thanks him and her words float over his head out the open door. He doesn’t care. I say nothing.

Speed up. Sudden uncomfortable lurch. Doors open. A woman wheels her baby’s perfect red stroller onto the bus. I’m crowded in between Perfect Red Stroller Empty Gray Stroller Navy-capped Official and my own unfocused thoughts.