sort of fragrance to mask the smell. It wouldn’ t work anyhow. On two other occasions, I smelt a similar smell and that was in church, and when I took a seven-hour flight to get here. The man next me smelt like he had not had a shower in a couple of days. It was strong and persistent, and I had to breathe through the blanket given by the airline on my head. I couldn’ t blame him though; I myself had been travelling for some time. The entire process was very underwhelming and still is.
Just then, I heard " You are not my mother!" And so did the rest of the people on the bottom half of the bus. Which was followed by " I had this talk with my mother.", and then moments later a very severe case of giggles and loud laughing. It was coming from the three girls at the back. She continued to laugh and laugh until she started to wheeze and cough and could barely control herself. Her friend asked, " why do you sound like a train?", which resulted in more laughing.
I envied them, because I too once had such a friendship, but the universe only gives those out once every five years, and I had already used my ' get one ' card. Those friends that I so dearly cherished barely responded to me anyway. They were too consumed with their new lives, their new friends, and all of sudden, I was once again a stranger. And so, they continued to talk, probably about boys, and the ' s ' word with a sort of childlike innocence that they have yet to leave behind. I would know because contextual clues that I overheard whilst looking out the window led me to this conclusion. I would know because I was once like them. At this point, my neck was hurting a little, and drowsy sleep was taking over my eyes, but I would not let it. I couldn’ t sleep on the bus. What if I missed my stop? what if I got lost? What if I got
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