9 July 2012
In the passenger's seat, I see everything.
I saw the lady cradling her crying child or the gentle man who gave up his seat for the elderly. I noticed how tired their faces as bus continued too move. There were people who would choose to sleep during those times but there were also people, like me, who watched the scenes in the window.
It's blurry sometimes but I like it that way. I see strangers faces and how fleeting they remain in my memory. I see the mountain and the cloud somewhat staring down on us. The trees are also a treat as their shades promise an invitation of so many stories. There are also animals tied just at the side. The cows, sheep, goats, and horses, especially, can be an interesting site to see.
But above all those things, I love commuting because I hear and observe people. Each passengers has a story that brought them there. The boy could be a student pursuing his dream of finishing his studies in another city, or he could be searching his fortunes there. The woman could be visiting a relative or going home after a long time. The old lady could be there to see her grandchildren.
It's full of drama in there.
In The Passenger's Seat • Opuss № I