I have been taking the 9:23 bus ever since the April 2016 Race Purge, instead of the 10:23 bus. The 9:23 has about half of the previous passengers, the route never having recovered from the purge. The corner of Northern and Harford at Valentino’s Restaurant, is not even used after dark anymore. Last night I over slept. It was a beautiful, mild spring night out, the kind of night that is a predictor of moderately heavy bus traffic. I was, however, surprised that only one other passenger was on the last #55 of the night. He is an older black man dressed like a retail manager, who gets off at Golden Ring, where most people will not risk using the stops.

This bus used to load up with 25 people between Towson and Hamilton and then head out through Overlea and Rosedale to Essex, with many of the passengers making the whole ride. Although the Towson and Hamilton passengers were absent, five souls did board at lonely, darkened stops—not one at a major transfer point—as these areas are hunted by black thug mobs that attack whites, blacks, Latinos and Asians with roughly equal frequency.

Who gets on the bus?

- An Indian or Pakistani kid

- A black woman

- A black couple

- A black woman who works at the Hospital and who I based the Kendra character on in Planet Buzzkill

Only Kendra stays on for the final leg into Essex, where thousands of Baltimore City ghetto-dwellers have been moved with housing vouchers over the past five years. It is interesting that hard working black folks have suffered the most from the government-sponsored spread of unemployed criminals and welfare children into outlying areas of Baltimore. It is doubly interesting that the championing of the cause of black criminals and the pressure on police to back off of these people has hurt working blacks far more than any other group. Of the aporoximately30 regular commuters who I no longer see on this bus since last year’s purge, 25 were black.

Where are they?

They are paying more to get to work, most likely, by employing cabs, sedans, Uber drivers or hacks. Major transfer points in Hamilton, Overlea, Rosedale, Essex and Middle River are now rarely occupied by commuters after dark.

Never fear, though, as I walked out to Middle River I saw the first police car on patrol along Old Eastern Avenue—which is now a hot zone for muggings, stickups and home invasions—in 12 months. The pig didn’t bother cruising down the street, but just sat at the 7-11. It was an oddly quiet night, with little light from the half moon. Even my friend, the giant egret, was not standing proudly out in the water beneath the bridge, but had hunched over at the edge of the reeds

I like the solitude and suppose I owe the white, liberal slave masters for letting their moral chattel loose on those who had previously escaped their clutches, thereby clearing the night for my ongoing mediation on the marginal meaning of human life.

I savored the quiet night.