Excerpt: The Long Bus Route

He had been riding the bus for hours, unsure of where to get off. Of course he knew where he lived. Of course he knew where he worked. Neither of those seemed to matter right now. He had boarded the bus that morning at the stop nearest his apartment, fully expecting to go to work. All the things he needed for a full day in the office were in the backpack on the seat next to him, including a lunch of leftovers, the novel he was reading during breaks, and some pointless paperwork his boss had insisted needed done the previous evening. Perhaps it was that paperwork that had done it. When he stepped on to the bus from the icy sidewalk, things were different.
Not really different in the physical world. The same morning commuters were all on in their respective seats. They were there every morning on this particular bus -- the woman who wore too much perfume, the gum chewer whom he could hear the length of the bus, the self-important man who would be on the phone the entire ride in, plus others. Oddly, on the bus this time of the day, one would expect the riders to be mostly business commuters; however, more than half the seats were filled with random people -- a grandmother, a mother with two young children (on the way to daycare?), a family who appeared to be homeless carrying possessions in some plastic grocery sacks, some college-age students. Usually the seats were not this full. Maybe that was what set him off. Maybe it wasn't the paperwork.