Little boy…

March 11, 2009


I saw an old friend of mine this morning. Actually an old friend of the family.

He was at the bus stop I go to every morning. I didn’t even have a clue he lived around here, let alone rode the same bus I did.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He replies, ”This is my bus today. … My God… I haven’t seen you in ages! You’ve all growed up!”

“Yeah it’s been what… like 20 years?” I question.

“ Oh, at least that much, if not longer little boy” he smirks at me, knowing he touched a nerve. He called me ‘little boy’ the whole time we knew each other. “Why are you taking this bus?” He asks with a quizzical look on his face. A face that is much older than I remember.

“This is the bus that takes me to the train station”

“So, little boy, you need to go to the train station?” Chuckling I replied, “Well, yes, that’s where I need to go.”

“Little Boy… this bus will take you where you ‘want’ to go…. Not always necessarily where you ‘need’ to go. Keep that in mind.”

The bus stops and I get in. Pay my fare and look for a seat. I try to find one so we can sit together but when I turn, I realize he didn’t get on with me. I ask the driver, “What happened to the old man? Did he not get on?”

“Sorry, Sir, but you were alone.”


One comment

  1. I’m guessing this is the precursor to the moving out of Chicago post.


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