The sparkling lights reminded her of the stars which, when she slept, protected her from the dark. This morning, she had no time for stars, running out the door with toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. No makeup. No bling. Almost no sandals, but she dashed back just in time. Clattering up the bus steps, she smiled at the driver and settled into a midway seat. Unusual, but not earth shattering.
She sat, arms full of the necessities of the day. In other words, nothing. These things, as all things, were nothing is the light of day. Imagined the ticking, the counting down, in rhythm with her heart. Held herself as if to protect the unborn child she would never have.
Minutes ticked. The bus grew fuller, stacked with humans like wheat stalks in the field.
Minutes. Minutes. Minutes.
All she felt was a flash of agony, a moment when the stars settled down around her, gathering her into their arms to fly away.