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Bus Story: Insidious Seating

March 29, 2013

She steps aboard the bus with the same look I get when entering a delicatessen. Ravenous eyes peer out from under jet-black hair in a modified Gloria Vanderbilt cut. She is all hard angles and pointy bits. From her chin to the shape of her coat to her bag and shoes, not a curve or rounded edge to be seen. The bus isn’t crowded so she has her pick of seats. She stalks past an empty seat, and seems to waffle between sitting next to a young man with an grimly determined expression, holding a shoebox and a fella in his mid-thirties with a shiny briefcase, playing poker on his phone. She smiles, which reminds me of curdled milk, and takes the seat next to the kid with the shoebox. After a few moments, the boy’s eyelids begin to flutter, and his head does the unmistakable bob-and-jerk a few times. Soon, he is fast asleep, the determined look on his face becoming even more intense, like he’s battling for something precious, and losing. Her expression blooms into one of rapture, and her breathing increases until she’s almost panting. With a whimper, the sleeping youth lets go of the shoebox, and it hits the floor of the bus with a dull thwap. He jerks awake, and the woman, now with a self-satisfied expression, hands him the fallen, clearly empty box. He snatches it from her as she stands, rings the bell, and exits the bus. Hold tight to your dreams, gentle readers, for thieves come in all forms and will steal from the plain just as soon as the fancy.


From → Bus Stories

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