96.
I usually write these posts the same way, I seem to find the words to write whilst I'm on the bus to work. I don't know why because it's just a simple bus journey. The same faces everyday no one speaks but those who are couples or friends. The bus journey is our little bubble I guess.
I look out the windows to the same green fields and dark trees, sometimes I spot something new which catches my eye.
I often wonder where each of these people are going. Are they going home or just starting their day like me? Is this bus journey the quietest part of their day? Their mini escape from the blur that the actions of the day causes. I have no idea. But I like that, I can create a story in my mind for the strangers around me. I hope their days are positive and joyous. In my mind their lives are perfect. Maybe they try to think that too. Even if it is just for the 20 minute bus journey.
The truth is I'll never know these people, we'll more than likely never say hello and we won't ever think about each other a part from when we enter and exit the bus.
That's the truth of it. I'll forget about them until tomorrow's trip and they'll forget about me.
It's nice to meet you strangers, for that's all you'll ever be. A stranger.
Much love
Beth x
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