diary / by Edward Mullany


But as I was walking to the station yesterday, in the neighborhood where I’m staying, thinking of what I was going to do, one of those double-decker buses came along, and passed me, and slowed to the curb ahead of me, to let on a person who’d been standing there, waiting, so that I couldn’t help but run after it myself and board it too, so appealing was it to my eye, and, once inside it, to go up the stairwell to the top, where I sat by myself on a seat at the front, and looked out at the road, not sure where I was going, but not really caring, taking a selfie that I sent to my friend, who did text back later, laughing and making a joke, because I’d told her, when we’d been traveling together, earlier in the week, how I’d wanted to do this, and she’d thought it was funny, because she lives here in this city, and the buses aren’t a novelty to her, but are only a means of getting around, though she can see, she said, how they might be more than that to me, at least for the time that I’m here.