Westward, westward, the bus wheels sing, westward, ever westward. North Bay, is behind me, Vancouver is waiting at my journey’s end. In-between, in-between, a vastness stretches out before me. A vastness and a great unknown.
The sky is darkening now, and the bus is full. They seem to be students, but who knows, because the only thing I know is that I am standing up, and I don’t want to stand up all the way to Vancouver. Next stop, Sudbury, still forty miles away.
They start to sing, the young people that is. It is a song I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t join in, not because I don’t want to, but I can’t sing any-more than toad can stand on its head. Now my secret is out. I am not going west to be discovered as the next great singing star, or for some great adventure. No I am going west for the most basic reason, a job.
I hope we get to Sudbury soon, because my feet are getting sore, and my legs are getting tired, and I hope there are fewer people on the bus.