Heather Villa's Page

Three of us managed to fit, despite our bulky, winter gear. The top of our arms firmly touched. I felt the rhythm of another’s breathing and smelled the scent of coffee with each exhale. No seats remained. I stood up and offered my cramped spot to a woman who boarded bus number 225. I figured out how to position my feet just right and to hang on to the overhead straps in hopes that I wouldn’t slip on the wet floor. The commuter bus was always packed on snowy days, with new faces who…