Bus Story: A Biting Wit

It is a grey summer morning; the sun is veiled like a demure bride on her wedding day. We sally forth, acquire riders, and make our way downtown. It’s a quiet group, with just the murmur of one conversation to my left. Two women have their heads close and are earnestly talking about something. One is middle aged, well dressed and carries herself with confidence. It is the other who grabs my attention. She appears younger than her friend, but there is something very ancient behind her eyes. She, too, is dressed nicely but there seems to be something incongruous about her choices of outfit and accessories, as if she has been shopping at antique stores as well as the latest boutiques. Her skin is pale, on the verge of translucency, so she has a slightly bluish tinge to her. And her eyes reflect the light, as dim as it is this morning, much like a cat’s eyes catch the light and cause them to glow. She clutches a coffee mug in both hands, which I notice is the only thing keeping her hands from shaking. She intently watches her companion as the other speaks, her gaze often shifting from her friend’s eyes to her neck and then snapping back again. As she licks her lips again and again, I glance about for anything that might serve as a stake. It seems this vampire may have overcome a sensitivity to sunlight, but I think she’s losing her internal fight against chowing down on her bus friend.