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Bus Story: Don’t Mind The Giants

January 14, 2014

The big plastic bag containing his world rustles as he adjusts in his seat. Large hands are barely covered by used-to-be-black wool gloves turned inside out. Despite the warmth on the bus, his red knit cap, complete with incongruously cheerful reindeer and fluffy snowflakes, is pulled down tightly over his head. His muttering is non-stop, a litany of challenges and posturing, aimed at a host of ghosts and demons that are unique to his perceptions. For him, strong barriers are everything. This weary defender, having been on the front lines far too long, clings to the routines that gather the pieces of his soul, like so much mortar, to wedge into the cracks in his shield. And still, he gears up for another rout. Go gently unto the day, brother Quixote, and maybe leave the windmills alone for a while.


From → Bus Stories

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