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Bus Story: Snack Attack

August 14, 2014

With a break from higher temperatures than we’re used to in this part of the country, the tension level aboard the 120 as we head into downtown is more normal. The ridership appears more at ease, now that our familiar drizzle of rain creates windblown rivulets of watery design on the windows. More at ease except for the man in the center seat.

At the bendy-bit of the bus, he sits alone, dressed in all black from the neck of his inky shirt to the tips of his black oxfords. His face and hands are pale and pink, and his head is smoothly shaved; round and shiny like a freshly hatched egg. He’s very anxious. Anxious particularly about the bag of trail mix that is sitting next to him. He touches it often, making sure it is still all there, and that there are no flaws in the plastic bag containing its nutty, salty, dried fruity, chocolate goodness. He looks at it, seems to think deeply, and then smiles. Until worry creases his face and he checks it again, glancing around, and often cocking his head sideways, as if listening to something far away.

It isn’t until I see a glimmer of greenish light reflecting off the cashews that I understand. Someone has figured out that Superman loves on-the-go snacks, and Lex Luthor is determined to give him a special Kryptonite-laced mix of his own diabolical making. I hope my stop arrives before Luthor does whatever nastiness he’s planning that will draw Supes to the bus and the tasty but deadly bag of snacky delight.

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From → Bus Stories

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