Something gives. You weren’t expecting it, certainly not at a bus stop like this, but once something breaks it breaks. You feel like a pregnant woman, or a dam, as everything spills out of you. The blackmail, the near misses. It was supposed to happen somewhere else, in front of someone you knew, not like this. “I don’t think I will survive the year,” you say, and she almost hugs you, but then her bus arrives. It was your bus, too, but she gets on it and you think better of it. You keep crying until the next bus arrives.