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Bus Story: A Hunter’s Moon

July 22, 2013

Just waiting for the bus, she strikes an imposing figure. Chestnut hair is swept up into a loose, but serviceable bun, while a few strands hang down and frame her face. Set off by crescent moon earrings, her aspect is natural and strikingly beautiful, bringing to mind a deep blue-green lake nestled within a great primordial forest at the base of a snow-capped mountain. She is wearing an unassuming short trench coat, which allows her to move unencumbered. Sun-bronzed and athletic, her legs are bound in leather strappings which wind from exquisite sandals upward. Beneath one sleeve, I catch a glimpse of a golden cuff, engraved with images of leaping deer. She is reading a small book about the local parks, which has an inscription on the title page, “To D: Enjoy your trip and don’t worry, I’ll keep dad from spoiling things. Love, your twin brother A.” But it isn’t until a skeevy dude with dead eyes and skin like a rotten banana tries to sit next to her, that I finally realize who she is. Without a word, she turned and her brown eyes, flecked with the silver of the moon, flashed and the man almost did himself a mischief to get away from her. When Apollo’s sister, Diana, takes a holiday, she may not carry a bow, but she ain’t the Goddess of the Hunt and Childbirth because she’s a pushover.

From → Bus Stories

  1. Oh, you minx. You had me going for a while. I love those twins.

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