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Bus Story: A Passing Thought

February 18, 2014

As the wind whips the trees and rain sluices down the windows, riders climb aboard looking more like characters in a maritime disaster movie than weekday commuters. So among the drenched and weary, he stands out. Tall, with vaguely vulpine features and reddish-grey hair, his ankle-length charcoal trench coat is immaculate, and dry as a town under the thumb of a temperance league. His eyes, although moving this way and that, seem to be unfocused. He waves, jauntily, to a set of empty seats, and takes a few steps towards them, almost careening into an Emo Dude, who is oblivious due the floppy hair covering his eyes. At the moment of expected impact, with a slightly startled look on his face, the tall man vanishes entirely. When it is a holiday for many, the bus can seem more like someone’s dream of what a bus ride is like. In extreme cases, the dreamer actually joins us for the ride.

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From → Bus Stories

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