The bus ride.

Heat. 

You see the waves bouncing off hot metal so you think about the disparity between you in the cramped up bus and him and her breathing in air…cold air. 

Thoughts. 

You try to stop them but they keep rushing in reminding you that the future is uncertain and daddy’s voice in your head is telling you again how we have no money…no money. 

Filth. 

You are looking out of the bus window as it nears the ditch filled with rotten food and foul smelling water wondering if it’s safe to be this close to the edge. 

Fear. 

Fear for the bus, fear for your life, fear of the future. 

Music. 

Earphones so it will all quiet down and you won’t hear the wind blowing thoughts you’ll rather not be thinking into your head and 808s to stop your brain from crunching numbers. 

Sleep. 

You don’t even have to be comfortable and may wake up to the sweaty old man beside you with his head on your shoulder but you need to quiet the noise of sirens, thoughts and engines. 

You need peace. 

And quiet.

Quiet. 

Author: loladeniyi

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