The Midnight Bus and the Shared Reflection

Dear Delyara, I spent my Saturday night sitting on the upper deck of the 149 bus, heading into the financial district for my shift while the entire carriage was packed with people going out for drinks. They were leaning into each other, sharing headphones, and laughing with a warm, easy intimacy that belongs to people who live in the daylight. I sat against the cold glass pane in my black uniform, looking at my own drawn reflection against the dark shops outside, feeling a bitter, icy wall of total isolation separating me from the rest of the human race. I am a ghost navigating their recreation, paid to watch over a world I don't get to participate in.