As I walk into the bus I notice an atmosphere of trivial, intangible feeling. I walk down the aisle to the last seat to the right. I put my bag down on the right of me to be closer to the wall. As I sit there silently, watching the people and only seeing the back of their heads. More people climb into the bus, looking for a seat out of the way so they will not to be bothered by anyone. I look around and notice an aged bus, yellow strips removed from the back; they hung from the ceiling to the chairs. I think those strips are used as the button to signal a stop instead of the string above. The strips were meant for the elderly who couldn't reach that high string, near the top of the window. As we leave Port Edward on our way to Prince Rupert, the lights go out so all you could see out the window is darkness. The faint light from the rising sun gives enough to see the trees on the either side of the road. At this point it feels artificial, with people moving like a silent inorganic mechanism to the direction of the buses, as it travels along the road. Swaying right then left, I notice the rain drops along the window outside make there way down in a stair step manner. This goes on, with no sounds from people just the sound of the humming bus engine. As we get closer to town, the lights come on and I notice the same silence. It isn't until the bus comes to its last stop on the route that you can see life in the people seated ahead. People rising from their seats to go. Some people go get a cup of coffee, some go right to work, or go to some place to kill time before class. As we make our way off the bus, I hear cluttering footsteps, movement of rain jackets, and the sound of backpacks and lunch bags being rubbed against bus seats. Finally, we disperse in various directions as the feeling of reality returns, as I touch of pavement beneath my foot. We are no longer silent inorganic mechanisms just sitting, we are now alive, moving, pursuing our normal activities.