If only those layovers lasted a little longer

Yesterday, I caught a late-evening 55 at the layover location at the beginning (or end, depending on which way you’re going) of the route. The driver was on a break–chillin’ inside the bus with the doors closed, deeply engrossed in a book. He was so engrossed, in fact, that he didn’t notice me standing at the stop. He kept reading right up until it was time for him to take off, then closed the book and started pulling away without opening the doors. I caught him before he got away, but I wasn’t nearly as concerned about being left behind as I was about getting in his business. Being the book nerd that I am, I had to know what had captured his attention like that.

“What are you reading?” I asked, as soon as he had finished apologizing.
“I am from Ethiopia,” he said. “I am reading a history of my country.”
“What a coincidence,” I said. “So am I.”

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