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The wait for the C-line was spent sifting through campus emails in relative silence, watching as the snow slowly rebuilt the dents made in its clean surface by his boots. It had intensified in the ten minutes spent waiting for the shuttle, the wind whipping it against the glass of the bus stop’s windowed sitting area in feverish bouts.

Slowly, it had reclaimed its territory from him, switching from simply replacing the displacements created by his initial movements to building farther than it had started. The drift nearest his left foot nearly reached the junction between his foot and his ankle. Finally, his salvation arrived in a cacophony of smog, engine noises and ear-piercing beeps. The shuttles brakes strained to a stop with a shrill, mechanical hiss that **** the few people collected underneath the waiting area’s roof to cover their ears before shuffling aboard, each banging their boots and wiping snow off at the entrance before finding disparate seats on the formerly empty shuttle.

Sam pressed his aching head against the chilled window, letting the contrasting sensations lull him into a fugue as the bus began to rumble down the road. Though no music escaped them, he nestled his ear buds in deep and watched through heavy lidded eyes as snow-covered buildings on campus became distorted glossy blurs as the bus gained speed. A shudder inducing realization popped the slowly rising bubble of respite that Sam had slipped into through the course of the bus ride, however. The white sky. The cold. The cobbled roadways. It was all too familiar.

It was almost a no-brainer when he really thought about it. Though his waking mind was bereft of any memories of his stay in Ireland, on most nights, his dreams struggled to elucidate him to some deeper truth about his time lost from the world. When he transposed his stroll to the bus stop with the beginnings of his nightmares, it was nearly one for one in terms of ambiance. He curled up in his seat, using the warmth of his own body to shield him from the introspective chill that the thought brought him. The thoughts of home and the calming, carefully manicured suburban avenues tided him over as the bus continued its lonely journey to his apartment. Soon, thoughts of awkward Christmas dinners and funny sweaters replaced those of darkened days and primal fears as Sam began texting his mother the details of his flight home. If there was one luxury he could afford, it was a ride back from the airport after the hellish flight that awaited him in a few hours.