The Crackling Heat Fades Away

The wind cut across and whips at my shuttered hood. I stand here as the bus enters the scene from the north. Its headlamps glow and its engine groans. I listen to the air buffeting and see the effect on the low hanging clouds. The fellow that always does everything "old school" laughs hysterically at something the overly friendly one says as the bus doors pull beyond him and up to me. The din of the atmosphere turns itself off as soon as I enter the bus. I am struck by the sudden silence. It does not appear ordinary to me. It is as if I am on the fleeting edge of something. I continue my progress to the usual row and set my accoutrements down with a haphazardness. I am unable to set the two bags right without falling over. My mind swirls uneven, the thoughts insistent on insufficiency to materialize. I decide not to care too much. After all, I am only on the bus to somewhere normal. What else do I have to do except just sit here? However, this very sensation goes against everything that precludes my usual action.
I rest my head on the seat back. I find that I must blink to stave away the burning dryness scattered across my eyes. With each eyelid flutter I learn that it is just better to keep them closed. The crackling heat fades away and I hear a touch of a rustling to my left. I peek over and notice a bicyclist arranging his own effects in order as he takes the seat across the aisle. I know that he is a bicyclist of course by the telling helmet atop his head and the bright yellow slicker adorned about his shoulders. In a subliminal sense I recall that the bus did take a while to get moving at this latest stop, meaning the driver must have been waiting for this person to install his bike on the rack. He glances over at me with a bit of disdain. I sit up immediately in reaction and straighten out of my slouch.
"Excuse me," I say.
"Hmmm?" he responds.
"You know I don't really like bicyclists," I admit in all honesty.
He is taken aback, quite predictably.
I continue, "None of you follow the road rules, and you ride around with this high horse mentality and sense of entitlement. I mean the other day I am trying to cross the street and one of you just blast right through the stop sign almost taking my toes with them. In fact you resemble that particular one. Wasn't that you? Why do you people act like such assholes, seriously?"
Really I couldn't believe I was saying this. Usually I am one to keep the peace, keep quiet, observe and gather information for future commentary. For one reason or another my temper snapped. I felt the anger surge through me at his idiotic outrage at my words. I wanted to belt his countenance off his face with a tightly wound fist. I really had had it up to here with these bicyclists.
 Damn, why now? I could not figure it even as I was spitting the words out. Something is different. It is like the whole universe has changed. It does feel odd, like gravity isn't working like it should. Has the Earth gotten more massive? I am sinking into my seat more so than typical. I see the bicyclist jumping out of his row with a sneer. I am ready for him...

Then I wake up. The bus is just entering the highway. The sun bleeds through the windows unexpectedly for this Seattle winter morn. I rub my eyes and shake my head. Another day begins.