The body rules

The bus was late again but at first glance, surprisingly not overcrowded. She cautiously went up the stairs to the upper deck to check the mood there. She smiled at the quiet and at the few free seats in the front rows. She approached one of them, she relaxed down in her seat. Her brain though, elaborated an urgent message coming from her nose and shortly after she got up quickly scanning the passengers around to identify the reason of the message. She chose a seat at the end of the upper deck.  Her nose still complained and after one further stop, she decided to go downstairs, her stomach sending uncomfortable signs of life.

The lower deck was also quite empty, and she could get a seat next to the window. Sitting comfortably, hands in the lap, she looked outside with a light smile. Suddenly the man from the upper deck came downstairs. Her body tensed as she overtly looked at him frowning.  Yes, in an almost empty bus, he was coming to sit next to her. She jumped out of her seat and rushed to the front door. She looked at the time, and thought it was already late. She braced herself for still a long ride, wishing she had some Tiger Balm in her purse. At each stop the doors opened, she stretched her neck to take big gulps of fresh hair. The driver, protected in his driver cubicle and obviously unaware, looked at her several times annoyed and reprehended her to keep clear of the door.

The torture went on until the bus reached her stop. She got off sipping a long breath in, while her brain finally deviated her attention to something else than that smell. In the metro she felt the eyes of other passengers on her, and she knew that they saw: a woman with dispirited eyes and unsmiling face, who again let her body dictating her behaviour. That night she left her meditation book unopen on her bedside table, discouraged she would ever become her better self.

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