a passenger pressed the button. ding and the bus came to a slow stop in front of a row of condominiums. the tired bodies of 9-to-5 cubicle working new yorkers yielded to momentum and leaned forward then softly landed back. a thin boy who'd been playing out on his front lawn came running towards the bus as if to meet his dad. but a man too young and too dark of a complexion to be in any way related was the only one who got off. hair tousled and grass streaks across his knees, the boy stood in front of the door. arms straight at his side, he asked:
hello, mister bus driver!
well, hello there!
where are you going?
ridgewood.
are you going to the garage?
no, not yet.
okay, good bye mister bus driver!
and he ran off. it was a nice thing to watch.
