THE CALL TO ACTIONShe's haunched over permanently, the way she perhaps was 12 years ago when she was reaching down for something.
The bus hydraulics hissssss as the driver lowers it for her.
She is coming out the front door, backwards, and every step she holds to the rail clenching her shaking hands, small like baby bird's claws.
She's well-dressed with hair set and a smart hat.
We all wait patiently to board, each thinking different things about our common fear of old age.
A man helps her step from the street to the curb.
"Thank you," she says warm and gracious. "Do you want this?" she asks, holding out her transfer. "Two dollars now. Two dollars now," she repeats.
"Anyone? Anyone want this?" she says waving the transfer, low and quiet, back a forth.
She stands before me, two feet smaller. "I do" I say.
"Well here, take it. Won't do me any good. I'm goin' home."
"Thanks, darlin'," I say.
CAN WE ALL DO THIS?
A CALL TO ACTION!
PASS ALONG THE TRANSFER!
What we have really boughten is time, and I don't know about you, but I'll take all the free time I can get.
-photo compliments of JuicyRai
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