Nobody notices me tucked away, nestled between the tired fabrics of threadbare seats. I don’t know where I’m going. I feel almost empty, discarded from life. More people board, a lady with greying hair heads towards me. Instantly I feel her disgust as she casts her gaze sweepingly in my direction. I can feel the accusation in her eyes; my presence offends her. She chooses somewhere else to sit. The bus lurches forward and I go with it, falling the few feet to the floor. The damage is superficial, just minor dents.
The lady hasn’t noticed, I cannot pick myself up though, so I lay staring upwards focusing on the gum stuck to the underside of the seats. Does it feel as forgotten as me? The motion of the bus is constant, and I begin to move as it does, listening to the hubbub of life carrying on above me, I pass unnoticed. Again, the bus stops, but I have built momentum and come crashing down the central aisle towards the doors.
I’m spinning so fast; everything is a blur of colour. I fly through the doors as they open, passing by the unsuspecting queue, hurtling towards the floor. I hit the concrete hard crumpling inwards and feel the last of myself leaking out covering the pavement.
The lady from earlier glancing out the window notices a drink can on the pavement. Scoffing about littering she turns to notice the can on the seat she spotted earlier has now gone.