Ab Bus, Tu bol.
I am old and feeble. I retired a few months ago and now heard that I had just a few days to live. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift.
From the day I was born I was always on the move. When I got my first job in a city I was very excited. I had never seen anything like it. My first impression of the city was that of a crowded mess. Everyone was in a hurry and did not seem to notice the next person. It was with these crowded masses that I passed every moment of my day.
I would start from my home early in the morning and return late at night. The first weeks I was gaping at the skyscrapers and thinking how the view would look from the top. I knew it was a hopeless dream but I guess that’s how I like to dream. I like the city during the starting and ending of my day. The sunlight streaming through the skyscrapers and the cold night breeze took the days stress of my shoulders. I was in the traveling business and it was rather difficult to travel through an army of potholes without falling prey to a few.
After the first few months, my eyes moved from the high rises to the lowly roads. Every day I would see thousands of people on it, people smiling, crying and many just very tired. I have seen my fair share of accidents and love stories on this road. This road which starts from nowhere and ends nowhere but makes us reach everywhere. The road sometimes made me feel like leaves floating on a river. At the end of every day, dirty and tired I would look forward to what this road will show me the next day.
These stories are what made me move, but I think the diesel did do its work.
Yes, I am a rickety old bus on my way to the scrapyard but at the end of my road, I have with me stories and memories to last another lifetime even though it was the same road over and over again. But I do think I will be back. I heard something about recycling so till I see you again, cheerio.
And I do think my brothers will a good job showing you the stories of the road.