I stopped breathing, for my heart needs to stop for while to wipe its tears off while reading this post by suling in Aussie now. She rarely update her blog but if there is any, it will be meaningful. So the true story goes: I get on the bus on a public holiday, which explains why I'm the only other person on it. I pick a seat facing the rear, which I almost never do because not all buses have seats facing the rear, so it really was a special bus that day. It's nice and quiet. I close my eyes, letting myself drift either into sleep or into silent communication with God. A few stops after mine, a little boy bounces into the bus, followed by his mother - a punkish, too-young-to-be-a-mom 19ish-year-old. The little boy goes all the way to the back, while his mother picks a seat just in front of him, barely turning to see if he's comfortable or if he needs anything. Little boy busies himself with his toy car and talking gibberish to himself. Sometimes he catches my eye, an...