We got on the bus and slowly made our way to a pair of empty seats near the back. I looked at each person as we moved down the narrow aisle. Most of them were focused on something else, anything preferable to their fellow man, and the few who did glance upward did not look for long seeing only a pair of poor people in a part of town they did not belong in. It’s possible some of them could remember us if asked, but most of what they remembered would be vague images. People remembered things in broad strokes, the details added to the flotsam of their daily lives.