The Bus to Nowhere

In a junkyard at the border between New Mexico, Texas and Mexico, is an old Greyhound bus that has come to rest after covering miles and miles, delivering passengers, families and stories from the east coast to California and back again.

Maybe it’s the bus Red took from Maine to Fort Hancock after breaking parole.

The sun, the heat, and time have stripped the bus of its paint and logos. All that is left is the aluminum skin, rivets and tail lights that seem good for another fifty years. The tires have been covered to keep them from rotting in the sun. The old bus is protected by barbed wire and fence on one side and the desert and the mountains on the other.

In its current state it is all but useless, but to someone it is worth holding on to. It’s that reliable.