There’s a young person who’s always on the 47 when I take my seat in the morning. They always exit at Convention Place. It takes them a few moments to exit, however, because they’re always engaged in some activity on their phone. Then they look up, suddenly realize where they are, quickly gather up their stuff, and rush out the door.
This morning, the 47 pulled into the stop at Convention Place, and that young person was looking at their phone. They didn’t look up.
Should I say something, I thought to myself. Do they realize where they are? Or are they going somewhere else this morning? Should I mind my own business?
I decided to mind my own business. The bus pulled away from the stop. The young person looked up, made a grab for their backpack, but it was too late. The bus was on its way.
The young person exited at Westlake.
Meanwhile, I’ve stared reading Alive, by Scott Sigler. It’s an advance reader’s edition. It was in the swag bag given to me at NorWesCon. Phillip’s recently read it, and says it’s very good. 50 pages into it, I’m agreeing with Phillip.
It starts off with a teenage girl who wakes up in a coffin. She has no memory of who she is or where she is. Her clothes are too small for her, as if she’s been in the coffin long enough to have outgrown them. After freeing herself, she finds that she’s a room full of coffins – each one contains an equally confused teenager. And yet, they each seem to remember something about the symbols on their foreheads.
I think I have a taste for this genre of “wake up in a mysterious room” stories.