The White Knight

Leaving for the bus is actually kinda sucky, despite the fact that I am absolutely loving my new career in acting. It's raining a little bit- not enough to be an actual problem, but the light drizzle means I'm constantly blinking the water out of my eyes, and then I have to actually sit in the rain at the bus stop. And the bus stop is one of those ones where there isn't even a seat, just a weird plank to lean against. It's really stupid and annoying- I mean, lower that one plank of wood about half a metre, tilt it a tiny bit and you have a rudimentary seat. It's designed to be anti-homeless (I think) but it also makes it really hard for everyone else. It's designed specifically to make life as difficult as possible for some people- and shockingly, it also makes life difficult for everyone else too. So now I have to lean against this plank on one foot for ten minutes while I wait for the bus. When it does arrive, I get awkwardly on the bus, ignoring the blatant staring from a pair of young teenagers that look like they want to check if I'm okay, but are too nervous to come up and ask. I think for a second about it, and it seems kinda deep, but maybe I'm just overthinking it. I mean, consider it for a second. Teens are never able to have a basic conversation with adults, because when they were teens they couldn't talk to adults- and so it makes it clear that you can only talk to your own generation, and anyone else is the villain. But maybe I'm just radicalised by all the media I'm exposed to on a daily basis. Who can really say.

On the bus, I sit near the back exit, lean my head against the cold window, watch the raindrops appear on the glass and zone out. Soon I realise that I've missed my stop, and I'm now a little too far along the Strand to get to my intended destination/target. I can wait in the rain for another few minutes before a bus gets here to drag me back a couple stops, or I can try and get there on crutches. Both options suck, and I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place. I think I'll walk. If I turn up on the bus, it takes away from my whole damsel in distress act, because then I can clearly solve my own problems. Strolling slowly through the rain, I slip a little bit when a crutch skids on the wet pavement, sending me face first into a dirty puddle. Blinking away tears, I brush the speckling of gravel off my hands and brush my wet hair out of my eyes. Usually it's too curly to be an annoyance, but when it gets wet it droops into view. From here, I sit down on the pavement for a second, and then heave myself back to my feet. Walking some more, watching the water in the puddles ripple with every step I take, I blink away the rain and reflexive tears, and through the blur of the water I can see the golden lights of the apartment building I'm heading to.