the only thing in life that i can count on is that bus number 57 will be late. standing on the sidewalk, cars slow to honk as i stare at the clouds and the highway through the line of trees just past the salvation army. for a time i would respond with my middle finger but it lost its power for me, so i just keep staring forward, shifting my weight from foot to foot in the a narrow strip of shade cast by a telephone pole that i have claimed as My Spot. there was once a lot of people on this route, but the call centers it served cut their costs by sending their employees to work from home, so there is no urgency in only collecting the few stragglers left on the road. one day the bus was so late that a spider attached a web to me and i let him, because who am i to stop nature? they say that things will be better when the light rail is finished, but until then, i'll be in my shadow waiting for the bus that never comes.
i was sitting on a draft of this for awhile and forgot about it until Weird Empire requested stories about the bus stops in charlotte. i'll be back again later with another august post i guess.