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Bus Story: Centimeters Away, Kilometers Apart

July 15, 2013

They arrive as a pair, quietly putting their bus passes away and settling down in seats that require physical contact, unless you happen to be as thin as Mia Farrow was when she had Beelzebub’s kid. A few words are exchanged, but, as both are low-talkers, there is a fair bit of “what?” and “Hmm?” between them. He appears older, with a rodent-esque demeanor and a weak chin. She’s pretty but tense, in a one-wrong-word-and-I’ll-scream sort of way. Their shoulders and knees touch, as required by the seats, but when their eyes meet, one may as well be at the peak of Everest and the other at the bottom on the Mariana Trench. There is a familiarity they have with the gulf between them, almost as if its vastness is a third member of the household. Family game-night must be interminable; Big Nothings take forever for their turns at Parcheesi.

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From → Bus Stories

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