Happening

He stood up suddenly and threw himself and his grey canvas sack to the bus's floor, then, clutching the sack's edges, he struck the floor with it again, four or five times, then stopped. No one moved, everyone had moved for a moment, away from him as he had struck the floor. He sat looking at the contents of the bag, now strewn all over. Cassetts, broken cassette cases, assorted papers, and pieces of his old cassette recorder. He sat quite still for a moment. Whatever had been happening wasn't happening anymore. Nothing continued to happen, then something began to happen again. He began to pick up his things, put them into the sack. No one moved. They all looked at him, or they all tried not to look at him. He put his things into the sack with steadily increasing speed.