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Bus Story: Riding Hood Takes on a New Meaning

May 3, 2010

A fierce wind blows this morning, accompanied by bright blue skies and clouds looming on the horizon. My fellow passengers and I climb aboard and set about fixing our disheveled hair. Suddenly, the wind really blasts and I look up to see a young woman practically fly aboard, decked out in a hooded cape-coat thing. It is bright red. She leaves the hood up and finds a seat, settling the mass of red around her; she knows this item of clothing well and how it will look best, even seated. Shortly after, a few stops later, a man boards and sits across the aisle from her. I don’t know if he really likes red capes or is otherwise attracted, but he keeps looking at her. She finally catches him at it. Because her hood hides her face from me, I can’t see her expression, but he flinches like a dog about to be swatted with a rolled-up newspaper and drops his gaze. Little Red Riding Hood may be on the ole 54, but wolves beware; she’s learned a few things from her time in the woods.


From → Bus Stories

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