I had to drag myself out of bed this morning. My eyes were glued shut by indescribable dreamscapes and nightmares. The Weather Channel blared from the TV, and Imus was screaming at me from my radio. I could faintly smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen.

After an excrutiating attempt to extract myself from the womb that is my bed, I debated catching a later bus. Just to let me return to somewhere else. Away from the hell of commuting and day jobs. But something in me said, "Go Now!"

So I did, after a hasty shower.

The first cigarette of the morning lit with a flash and the cold smoke of my breath combined with carcinogenic fumes to turn me into a dragon of sorts. As I meandered through suburban pastures to the bus stop, I am wishing for something better.

I arrive at the bus stop and say my customary "hiya" to the other passengers.

The bus arrives, and I take my customary seat in the back, hoping no one will sit next to me.

Half asleep, the bus struggles around the corner to the final stop before the ride up the highway. The sun is glaring at me through the window.

Startled out of my daze, I realize that we have a new passenger on the bus. I have never seen her before. She is stunning, and it seems as if even the bus is dumbstruck at her, as its idle slips and almost putters out.

She takes a seat in front and everything settles down to relative normalcy.

I turn up the soundtrack to my ride and slip into my book. 80 minutes slide by unnoticed.

The bus slides to a halt and people start collecting their belongings. That’s when I see her. She is standing motionless and staring at me. I meet her eyes with mine, and like every awful clichéd romantic movie scene, the three-second glance lasted forever.

I hustled off the bus and out into the street. I lit a smoke and hailed a cab, I wondered why this day felt so ordinary.