Próxima Parada

The bus stopped with a lurch.

Several passengers, who'd been preoccupied, spilled into the aisle among a confusion of paper and gadgets.

Outside, the scenery stood still.

Sleepers opened their eyes uncertainly, confused by the new sensation of stasis.

The door hissed and I stepped down to the pavement.

Spilled strangers, improvising one-liners, savoured the shared moment.

The door thudded back in its seal and a hot cloud belched from the exhaust.

Behind the glass, faces returned to their preoccupation.

I stood awhile and took in my new surroundings.

A sign up ahead said "Day one".