ByOwen Montgomery, writer at

The bus stop, a place of many memories and life journeys, a place where mental and physical journeys begin. I walk down the pavement and hesitantly enter the bus small shelter. As i look around me , I gaze upon the obstructions in front of my eyes. A movie poster masked in bright vibrant colors, an old lamp post that as been through hardship and torment from the power of the wind. AS the cars drive past my eyes follow them until they disappear out of sight from the bus stop view. an elderly woman is sitting beside me staring into space, she looked to be asleep but her eyes were wide open. She just sat there in complete peace and harmony. A young school boy stood perched again he inside wall of the stop, he looked intensely at the rectangular device as if he was looking straight through it. I heard a faint drone coming from further up the road. Seconds later the bus plodded past, it reminded me of an old wort hog walking along lazily. It was blue with advertisements scribbled all over it. The next thing I know it pulls up and comes to a halt. My journey begins here.


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