I board the bus in the morning, and make my way down the aisle to an open seat. I sit for a few minutes gathering the thoughts buzzing in my head, and then I turn my attention to the other passengers. There are people reading, listening to music or frantically texting on their phones. I like to look for stories in their faces. Their expressions exhibit a variety of emotions – relaxed sulky, happy, serene – I speculate on where they are going and why they have that expression on their face at this moment. Did the woman in the red dress receive disconcerting news? Is the young mother daydreaming about her child’s future? Did the girl with the tear-stained face have a fight with her boyfriend?
In the midst of all this facial scrutiny, it occurs to me that other people might be looking at me. I wonder what my face reveals to them. What would my story be?