He’d look at his watch every fifteen minutes as he waited on the bus to take him ‘cross town…cold and rainy…cars splashin’ him as they drove by on State Street…some seemed as though they hit the puddles on purpose…just to watch his displeasure in the rear view mirror as they sped through yellow lights…

On the corner he stood there with the rest of the crazies…people mumbling to themselves ’bout the Lord Jesus Christ comin’ back to town…guys smoking cigarette butts picked out of trash cans…on sidewalks and kept in a old package marked Viceroy…fat ladies with thick ankles staring into space…all waiting on the second coming of the bus…

And a young black kid with headphones on was spouting off lyrics to some rap song…talkin ’bout bitches and hoes…bitches and hoes…can’t trust bitches and hoes…he looked at his watch again…time was not moving fast…

All of this going on around him in front of the mental health clinic…making him wonder if he was truly a part of this community…he spoke to himself…had suicidal thoughts…took his meds that didn’t work…couldn’t hold down a job…he looked at his watch again…

He looked normal…as normal as a crazy person can…maybe that was the most frustrating thing of all…to look like something you’re not…normal…

Then again…what was normal anyway…