Bus Stations are often places of the swirling dust. Some bus  stations were gas stations. Liquor stores. Laundromats. Church parking lots. Diners. He would arrive at the bench and sit for hours. No one thought that talking to his voices on this bench was odd. He had a lot of older friends. Most of these guys lived with family because they were ancient bones. The bus station was the heart of the desert community. Time has taken a toll, but I do not believe he’s dead. I think he’s out there farming vegetables.