We watched the man punch the bus door until the glass splintered. Blind, heedless, mindless. Exploding with an outrage that repulsed the passengers around him in a semi-circular vacuum of fear.
We watched. Old men who did not ask for a seat on the crowded bus out of some latent pride and the desire to believe those aching joints could endure the way they once had.
We watched. Young women who knew to carefully study their phones when men got too close, but froze when men got too angry.
We watched. Men bursting with their own outrage, but who knew their complexion would not permit silent fear and passive awe.
We watched and held our breath and hoped he would not turn his outrage on us.