Today felt different.

I reached the bus stop, sat on the bench, took out my Kindle and started reading. I was almost at the end of my book and really wanted to finish it. Usually the bus takes about 10–15 minutes to come, so I thought I had enough time.

Except there was no one at the bus stop. Literally nobody.

Which was strange because there are usually quite a few regulars. I don’t know any of them, obviously. But when you see the same people almost every day, you start recognising them. You know their usual time, where they stand, where they get off.

There is a boy, probably around 12, who takes the same bus and gets off at the same stop as me. There are two older women who I am fairly sure work as house help. There is another rather plump woman who, for some reason, thinks I am a college student.

I like her because I like the idea that someone looks at me and thinks college student. I am not going to correct her.

Then there are a few young girls who get off near their college. They all wear black abayas and cover their faces. I have no idea if they can recognise each other.

I can’t so I’ve started identifying them by their shoes. They wear the same shoes every day, and somehow I have started giving them identities in my head based entirely on footwear.

That’s the one with the white sneakers.

That’s the one with the black shoes.

That’s the other black shoes.

I have never seen their faces, I don’t know their names, and they probably have absolutely no idea that I have created an entire identification system based on their footwear.

Anyway, today none of them were there.

It was oddly unsettling. You don’t realise how much you depend on familiar strangers being around until suddenly they aren’t.

I sat there and went back to my book. And surprisingly, the bus arrived in about three minutes.

Usually I wait 10–15 minutes. Today, when I had specifically planned to use the waiting time to finish my book, the bus decided to show up almost immediately.

But there was good news.

I got on the bus, found a seat and managed to finish the book.

Half of a Yellow Sun. What a beautiful book. I finished the last few pages on the bus and had tears in my eyes when it ended. So I suppose I can’t really complain about the three-minute wait.

Until tomorrow.