The bus stops here

I  rode the city bus when I was a kid.

I took it downtown from West Hartford to Hartford on weekends with a friend and we went to a luncheonette on Main Street and ordered Vanilla Cokes.

The waiter poured vanilla extract into the Cokes.

My first cocktail.

There were no bus shelters in West Hartford back then, I don’t think.

There are now, of course.

The West Hartford Art League has elevated them high art at 10 locations throughout town.

City scenes, jungle scenes, nature scenes, abstract art, all in my town where “City Style Meets Village Charm.”

The people sitting in them: dozing, reading, staring straight ahead,  waiting, waiting, waiting, become part of the canvas.

I’ve already missed mine once already, a man says as we chat in the shelter at Farmington Avenue near Stop and Shop.

A bus pulls up. The driver salutes as the door hisses shut. The bus accelerates away sounding like a dragon clearing its throat, preparing for flight.

I walk away, some pink chewing gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe.bus stop 1




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