hedgiewan | the bus man

Sometimes, when I pet Jack the way he wants to be petted, I feel like I'm playing a bizarre harp. A bizarre chubby harp.

I missed the 113 by about 10 feet this morning. Some people at the corner watched me running for the bus, but nobody reached out and tapped on the doors. There was a 4 right behind, so I caught that, at least.

We stopped at a light downtown. I don't know if the driver didn't see anyone at the stop, but as we were waiting for the light, pulled up all the way to the corner instead of at the stop, I looked out the window and saw a man standing at the bus stop sign. It took a second before I realized that he was blind.

Now, usually, when the bus stops for a blind person, the driver opens the doors as close to the person as possible, and calls the route number out the door. This man knew there was a bus right in front of him, but no doors opened and nobody spoke. The light changed, and the bus pulled away, the driver oblivious. The man at the stop looked like he was about to burst into tears, and my heart broke. I tried to tell myself that I didn't have time to alert the driver, but the fact of the matter is that if I hadn't taken half a second to hesitate, I would have caught him before the light changed, and that man could've caught his bus, and his day might have been a little better.

The little things we do to each other don't hold a candle to the little things we don't do for each other.

the hedge abides.