Velocity

Wednesday, 7:59 am. I wait inside the Queen and Providence bus shelter for Bus 43 (Belmont Hills – Downtown), which ferries me to work. The rain falls against the dark grey skies. A silver-haired woman paces the sidewalk outside the bus shelter, scrunching her hawkish eyebrows as she complains to Bob and Mary and Ethel that the bus is late. She’s there every morning but never gets on the bus. Did I mention that I’m the only one at the bus stop with her? Yesterday, in deep conversation with Ma...