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Bus Story: TGIJudgy

April 12, 2013

They sit on opposite sides of the aisle, like gargoyles at the entrance of some dark and sinister cathedral. One is elongated and all points and bones and teeth. The other is heavy and implacable and round. Their conversation is punctuated by leaning forward and bringing their heads closer together, often resulting in a hacking cackle from one and a wheezing snicker the other. Riders wishing to reach the back half of the bus must pass between them, hoping to have the right password or talisman, like Sinbad in one of those marvelously cheesy Ray Harryhausen movies. At each crossing, the pair shares a look between them and, so far, my fellow riders reach their seats unscathed. I wonder what measure of judgement they weigh each, and I hope I don’t witness what transpires if someone is found wanting. I think Osiris may be the Judge of the Dead, but two of his court clerks are practicing for the bench during the morning commute.


From → Bus Stories

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