I Wonder

When the T service was suspended between a few stops, we had to get on a bus. In some ways, it was a treat. 

Seeing any part of Boston fills my heart. It's a beautiful and small and endearing metropolitan area that's always changing. It fills me with joy and excitement, and hope. 

A light mist of spring rain fell as the bus groaned through the streets. People crammed inside and clamored to get off. 

At the stop before ours, when the bus was pretty packed, two people tried to squeeze on. We all backed up or tried to. The first made it on. The second sort of tried to. Then he walked off.  

"There's room," I tried to call out, but he didn't hear me. 

He was black.

Did he think I moved out of hatred? Nerves? Fear? Racism? 

It was none of those things, I only moved to make room, and I had smiled. 

I was wearing a covid mask. 

I would've moved to make room for anyone. 

I'll think about this exchange and wonder;

Was it claustrophobia? 

The vile social climate of hate?

A non-issue and simply a disdain for a polluting, crowded bus, and a preference to walk? 

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