Ride Home

I'm sitting on a bus, filled with young, beautiful people who are undoubtedly on their way from work. We get on this bus together, have our short time in close proximity, sit in silence with our iPods plugged in, not even knowing each other's names. How sad. The bus driver is an Asian man who surely works too hard for the payment he receives twice-a-month. The rest of the passengers are on their way to an unsatisfying job that pays their way to material happiness. This could very easily be our last ride together.