The time and space a bus commute affords to contemplate the journeys we are all on... For Sunday Miscellany on RTÉ Radio 1, listen to Morning Rush Hour, by Katrina Bruna above...
These days the bus to Dublin city centre is always late. Every day I leave the house at 8am sharp and meet the postman on my way out. Waking up before sunrise doesn't really get easier.
Just a few years back I could never have imagined myself like this. I’m making my own way in this world, this country, and it’s clumsy and awkward and fatigue seeps deep into my bones along with the late winter? rain. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The bus smells like hot-pressed cotton fabric, sweat, disturbed sleep and obligation. The sun is just starting to rise, faint light barely coming through fogged-up windows on the upper deck...
Listen to more from Sunday Miscellany here.
