You feel uneasy being in such an enclosed space. It’s not claustrophobia, necessarily, but it’s a restless feeling if you are not in your room or in open spaces where you could run in a moment of danger. You never truly relax into your seat as the vehicle moves along (though you can see a few rows ahead someone even dares to sleep) - the faster you get off, the better.
You prop your notebook against your knee - a plain orange thing with lined papers - and grasp your pen, trying to ignore the bumps and stops that shake the bus. This is not a good place to be writing, and your handwriting is nothing short of sloppy as you start a new page, but it calms you to know you have something penned down.
Large canyon in the middle of Fibonacci Ward. Very tall buildings known as “skysc
Another bump big enough that causes you to lurch forward - while you steady yourself quickly, your notebook falls from your grip and slides under someone else’s seat. You cautiously get up to retrieve it -- you will not rest if you’ve lost this thing a second time -- but the young blonde girl on said seat doesn’t seem to immediately notice your approach. You gently clear your throat.
“Excuse me. I -- dropped something down there. Could you get it for me?”
@reincarna is dealing with public transport conversations !
