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Bus Story: Not So Super

March 27, 2010

It’s the end of the week, and the riders are filing on and off the ole 54 in a chilly but sunny spring day. I take a seat and notice the occupant of the seat one row up and to my left. He’s impossibly thin; to the point where his skin has a blueish cast to it and I think he would disappear if he turned sideways. His nose is the only thing about him that seems to have any substance. And, boy howdy, does it ever! With a nose the size of the USS Nimitz, I can’t help but think that he’s got an amazing sense of smell. Then he turns, slightly (I do my best not to duck) and I see that he has an expression on his face like he’s smelling something awful. Really awful. Always. I think he’s a retired superhero, whose power is this amazing sense of smell – “Evildoers, beware The Nose!” Or “Never fear, The Bloodhound has the Trail!” or something like that. But he’s lost the ability to filter the smells and he just takes them all in at once. Soon, he lost his appetite because he smells the world all the time. And he has that stink-smell face all the time. The Superhero Pension Plan needs a fund to send him someplace that smells better. Or at least gets him one helluva jar of that stuff coroners put under their noses.

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From → Bus Stories

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