After we cross the border, the bus stops at three sleepy upstate towns before we get to Albany. Plattsburgh is a stop and go. At Glens Falls we pick up three new passengers. My traveling companions are paired in the seats ahead of me, leaving me with an empty aisle seat.
Before I look up to assess whether I am likely to get a seatmate, I take note that the men across the aisle have already loaded up their empty seats with belongings and I consider moving my bag to claim my space as well. The young man coming down the aisle is wearing a baggy beige sort of two piece jumpsuit. He has short dark curly hair and a tan probably Latino face. He takes the seat next to me with his leg sprawling out into the aisle, the knee bobbing up and down. He doesn’t seem to have any bags, but is clutching an envelope with papers in one hand. Continue reading