Monday, January 2, 2012

Bus stops in big cities

Sunsets remind her of traveling.  It's the only time she ever sees them.  She has watched the sun rise over barren midwest lands, cold and tired from endless work.   And she has watched the sun unfold over majestic peaks of an endless sea of mountains, the alps spreading on from Austria and moving into switzerland, second by second being unveiled as the sun draws back the curtains of night.  On a ferry slowly meandering the inside passage she watched with excitement as the rarely seen rising sun lit up wild lands that few men, if any at all, have placed their feet.  From the window of a train heading north, a car heading east, from the window of a plane orbiting the earths circumference she watched the sun hang in the air for hours, refusing to leave it's post as she passed London, Greenland, Iceland (setting, not rising), wanting her so badly to see it all it refused to leave until it had illuminated everything on her journey.  And even here at home, while waiting for the bus to take her to her suffocating 9-5 position, the sun gleams it's yellow light on this simple street where she lives.  Perhaps she can learn to travel at home.

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