The Commute
by Talria
· 01/02/2026
Published 01/02/2026 13:39
The bus was nearly empty—
rows of blue seats
just waiting,
just available,
and they got on,
looked around,
and sat
directly next to you.
Your bag was touching theirs.
Your shoulder was
two inches
from their shoulder.
The armrest was
the only thing
between you
and this complete stranger
who had chosen
to eliminate
all the space.
The whole day
came off the rails
after that.
Not because anything happened,
not because they did anything,
just because
they had made
that choice,
that deliberate choice
to sit where they did,
to take away
the buffer,
to make the bus
smaller,
to make you
feel
like the city was
closing in,
like there wasn't enough
air,
like you couldn't
breathe
without breathing
their air.
You got off three stops early.
Walked the rest of the way.
Couldn't shake it.
That deliberate choice,
that sound of them sitting down,
that specific proximity,
that reminder
that sometimes
people do things
for no reason,
that sometimes
the city is just
a place where
strangers
eliminate your space
and you can't
do anything
about it
but move.