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Bus Story: The Lightest Light

July 3, 2013

She sits, perched on the bench-seat, with her toes just reaching the bottom. Tiny in face and stature, she seems a delicate lace among a throng of heavy brocade and burlap. Her movements are quick and bird-like, as she watches the other riders with interest. Her be-ringed fingers dance in the morning’s sun and play with the ringlets of flame-colored hair that tumble down from her tiara-topped head. Or it just appears to be a tiara, when it really is the sun shining off the band holding her headphones. All is well until a vast, corpulent man heaves his frame into the seat next to hers, almost crushing her entirely. But instead of wilting from the invasion, she turns up her music and starts seat-dancing. With each shimmy and twist, she seems to get brighter and his bulk, previously close to obscuring her entirely, appears to fade into transparency. Shake your groove thing, faerie princess, and show ’em how to do it now.


From → Bus Stories

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