The bus was heading north, passing the unlit highway of SCTEx. The red light inside the bus was casting an eerie glow on the passengers who were, by now, covered in blankets or jackets and the plush seat’s curved back was adjusted way behind. At the right front seat, I was seated, ensconced on my own place with its back inclined and the footrest adjusted up.
I wasn’t sleeping. I can’t sleep. Thoughts were racing in my head, faster than the flashing headlights of uncoming vehicles, questions asked. What if? What would have been?
Travel for me the past days have been more of an escape. Fleeing as a way of distracting oneself from the harsh realities of life. The bus, with my own little space, has been a refuge. I see the world go by, and it doesn’t demand me to stop and face it. With my own turf, bordered within the confines of the plushness of my seat, I am anonymous. No friends. No family. Just strangers. Nameless. But it is bliss.