A cloud of human vapor plumed
above the commuter crowd. It hung in the frigid air like some abstract art
installation. Winter had arrived and it
was the foremost thought on everyone’s mind. It was damn cold. The commuters
shuffled on their cold feet, trying to move the warmth around their bundled
bodies. They clapped their gloved hands
and rubbed their own coated arms. It was to no avail. The freeze burrowed
through all their bundled layers.
“Damn cold,” said one commuter as they
sniffed.
“Ymp,” came the scarfed and muffled reply.
“Ymp,” came the scarfed and muffled reply.
The commuters waiting for the bus were wrapped in heavy scarves and wool
caps, thick winter mittens or gloves, thick burly coats and in some cases snow
pants draped down over big winter boots. They were a group of five people, unidentifiable
as male, female or other through their winter wrappings. They all seemed to be
swaying in the morning cold; instinctively hoping their movement would shield them
from the bitter negative degree temperatures.
“Where’s the damn bus,” complained a thickly bundled commuter.
“This is bull,” said another.
“Freaking winter man. Why do we live here,” asked another.
“For the summers,” responded the original complainer.
The crowd of cold commuters laughed in thick white clouds that rose
steadily over their woolen heads. They all peered down the gray street, thick
with road salt and piles of frozen snow, looking for the bus. The bus was
running late. The world seemed to be running late. It was as if the freezing
cold had somehow managed to slow time. The normal wait time for the bus was now
an agonizing torment for the commuters. They had no choice but to wait in the
blistering, blowing freeze.
“I’m buying a car next year,” said one commuter, “then we can all ride
together.”
“That would be nice, but you said that last year,” was the reply.
“Well, this year for sure. I mean it,” said the commuter.
The shivering crowd moved closer together as the winter wind howled
around them. The bus appeared down the street. It was moving slowly towards the
commuter-icicles and they began to nod at one another. The bus pulled up to the
stop and the doors opened. The five commuters lined up as they do every morning
and boarded. The doors closed and the bus began to pull away.
I sipped my hot coffee at my apartment window. I pulled my cardigan
sweater a little closer over my chest and continued to watch the frozen world work.
