Thursday, May 7, 2020

The bus stop that I pass on the way to work is gone. A few weeks ago, it seemed to be under construction. The bricks under it were torn up. Some were placed on its seats. Now it has disappeared completely. The bricks are back in place, set so smoothly that I’m not sure precisely where the bus stop was. Its side of the street is closed off in the mornings. A vehicle blocks the lane. A person in a yellow hazard vest sits in a chair beside it. I don’t know why. I don’t see any construction near it. The street is clear and in use in the evenings. The bus stop on the other side is still active. I’ve never taken the bus that had stopped there. I haven’t taken any buses in a couple of months now. I don’t know if the line has been rerouted, either just in the mornings or all the time. The web site is cryptic. I hear that more bus lines are coming back. I think of going to the mall after work. It’s reopening today. I might be able to take a bus home. That’s not a good idea, though. Many more people will be swarming toward it today. There would be a long line to get in. The food court is still closed as, I think, the rest of the eateries are. I know that there’s nowhere to sit down and eat. I suppose that I should wait until the initial frenzy ends. I grew up in New Jersey, so shopping malls are my native habitat. Someday soon, I will wander among the stores, most of which are full of things I would never buy. I will ride the buses home. But not today. Today I walk: to work, to the supermarket, down quiet streets and pedestrian alleys, past runners, children, cats and dogs, and home.