Board, shake your umbrella dry.
Find a seat.
Voices drown out the trickling rain.
Streetlights illuminate the bus, casting shadows.
Strangers squeeze together.
Everyone wearing Hot Breath No. 5.
Germs disperse like a smoke bomb, touching me.
Don’t think about it, you’re fine.
People get on and off, more germs.
My mind wanders.
The seat I sit on, who was here before me?
Breathing becomes harder, my palms sweat.
I rock back and forth.
Let the bus move me.
Hearing everything in triplicate.
And then boom.