Sisko the Bus Station
The dispatcher’s crackled voice announced a disturbance at the city bus station. Officer Kyson Hunter, accompanied by K-9 Sisko, a lean, black Labrador Shepherd, arrived to find a city bus idling at the curb. Several passengers stood near the exit, observing a lone individual slumped in a seat near the rear.
Kyson approached the bus driver, a middle-aged woman with a strained expression. “He won’t get off,” she explained, gesturing towards the passenger. “Been here fifteen minutes. Says he didn’t realize we stopped.”
Lost in thought
Kyson nodded, then turned to Sisko, who was already sniffing at the bus’s exterior, her powerful nose twitching. The passenger, a young man with disheveled hair and clothes stained with what looked like paint, remained oblivious to the gathering crowd. He was muttering to himself, seemingly lost in thought.
Kyson: “Sisko, check him out. See if he’s got anything on him that might explain this.”
Sisko, obediently, moved to the bus entrance. She was allowed access after a brief word with the driver. With a low whine, she approached the passenger, pausing to sniff his backpack before circling him once. She then nudged Kyson’s hand with her nose, indicating a specific pocket on the young man’s jacket. Kyson found a small, crumpled sketchbook inside.
Kyson: (To the bus driver) “He appears to be harmless. Just profoundly engrossed in something. Maybe a bit of a daydreamer with no ill intent.”
Kyson approached the passenger. He cleared his throat, producing a louder sound than he’d intended, causing the young man to flinch.
Kyson: “Sir, we’re going to need you to exit the bus, please.”
The young man blinked, his eyes slowly focusing. Confusion washed over his features.
Passenger: “Oh. I… I didn’t realize.” He looked around, a blush rising on his cheeks. “I was working on… a drawing.” He gestured towards the sketchbook in his jacket pocket.
It happens
Kyson: “It happens. Just be more mindful next time. Try putting on headphones to minimize disruptions.”
The young man nodded sheepishly and got off the bus. Sisko, satisfied, sat by Kyson’s feet, her tail thumping softly against the pavement. Kyson offered a polite smile to the relieved bus driver and they began walking away. He stopped momentarily to check the sketchbook’s cover. The title: “Urban Landscapes – A Bus Station Symphony.”
Kyson (to Sisko): “Seems even daydreams have their artistic expressions, eh, girl?” Sisko offered a soft bark in response, her black fur shimmering faintly in the late afternoon sun. They continued their patrol, the scent of the city, both mundane and mysterious, filling the air.
