The bus route that doesn’t exist yet

I was standing at the stop near the old rail yard this morning, watching a bus crawl past with half a dozen empty seats. The route’s supposed to be extended next year—no one’s built the shelter, no one’s even painted the stop sign. But I kept thinking: what if the route already existed in someone’s head? That moment when a place becomes real not because of concrete, but because someone believes it should be. The rain started just as the bus disappeared. No one else was there. I stood under the awning anyway.