On the bus today, I saw that there were only old people, and I wondered where all the young people were. Then I remembered that it was only noon, and young people are usually busy at noon time; it is not until the evening or late at the night that they are set free from their labor. The old people, on the other hand, have nothing to do; not in the morning, or at noon, or in the afternoon, at the crepuscle, or during the night – which is why they often take rides to nowhere. The constant moving keeps them alive. So it was that I found myself the only young person on the bus. And I too found that, like the old people, I was staring at the window all the time, not thinking about anything, but just watching everything pass by. Time moves very quickly whenever you deliver yourself into such a trance, and before I could notice anything, it had already come to my stop. The old people never got off. They were the eternal passengers, and I merely had a taste of eternity.