rekkidblogga

Ticket to nowhere

After the Greyhound "Local" bus passed me this morning, I noticed a woman yelling across the street at someone, ticket in hand, looking as if she'd missed her bus -- perhaps that one -- and was at her wit's end, not knowing what to do or where to go. Behind her, a black cabbie in his 60s puttered around, trying to go about his business in spite of the scene.

Wearing a stylish white jacket/black t-shirt and jeans ensemble, she was youngish and attractive -- dyed blonde hair (brown roots showing), brown eyes, well-tanned, tallish, shapely, mid- to late-30s. And yet, around 10:30 this morning on dingy Forsyth Street in downtown Atlanta, her world was, for the moment, falling apart at a rundown bus station and she looked more panicked than I've seen anyone look in a long time. Slightly angry, too, but mostly fearful of something she was missing out on. Or, perhaps, something she had hoped to escape.

posted by rekkidbraka @ 1:57 AM