Waiting Counting

People waiting for a bus or train often gaze toward the distance by stepping to the edge of the platform or sidewalk to see if anything is coming at all. It is a futile effort, like a watched kettle which never boils; it comes when it comes.  The more impatient among them, waiting for a bus, would even venture to walk into the middle of the road, defying oncoming cars and trucks, only to ascertain that no bus is in view. Sometimes, when a bus is finally spotted in the distance, it bears the sign “Not in Service” and passes by.  Those who are less jittery still stand on the platform facing the direction from which a train is expected to arrive, informing those unfamiliar with the place which way the train is arriving. The next train will come when it’s due even if you were facing the opposite direction. Many today, equipped with a smart phone bus checker, keep checking it minute by minute.  I used to behave the same myself sometimes but, of late, less and less.  If the next train or bus is imminent, it will come in no time; if the wait is ten minutes, it will arrive in ten minutes, more or less.  So be it.  I read waiting, or else compose some verses or sentences in my head, pleasurably.