7:45 am
Words, Numbers and the Stench of Existence
The fresh smell of nature mixed with automobile exhaust fumes and yesterday’s garbage is an effective kick-in-the-head reminder that you are alive. Today. The conductor of the night seems to orchestrate the leftover stink of humanity into a sort of rock-opera that shocks you when you venture out the next morning. The wait for the school bus allows the boy to continue his conversation about how the aliens will one day surprise us all with an invasion and that knowing how to spell the words of numbers to 100 will be pointless in that scenario. I guess that’s true unless the aliens are a species with highly-evolved mathematical mindsets evaluating others on their ability to integrate grammar into complex calculations.
Outside Looking In
The allocated queue for the bus is in the Peterson’s driveway, they elected to provide this location as it’s a central point for the neighbourhood kids to convene. Mr Peterson leaves with his daughter Jenny, who is in the same class as the boy, eight minutes before the bus arrives, causing an excited manoeuvre by children when his VOLVO slowly makes its way down the driveway. I guess he leaves before the bus arrives so that he doesn’t have to drive anyone who missed the bus to school. We all wave as his car, with headlights on, drives off down the road. Jenny peers from the back seat window with a sullen look, as if she is longing to be part of the collective kerfuffle currently taking place in her driveway.
Talk Your Way Out
The boy enjoys the morning bus ride, meeting up with friends like they hadn’t seen each other for decades and discussing last night’s television viewing or who was going to win the cross-country run this week. The bus drives off and the parents saunter back to their homes to fulfill their roles as respectful adults and citizens. There’s no evident sign of extraterrestrial presence.
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