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Bus Story: Life Storms

May 16, 2017

There’s disaster in his head. Or two. Outwardly, his well-manicured hands and salon haircut match his shiny, polished shoes and tailored suit. But inside, rages a cyclone of giggles, intermingled with a tsunami of grief. The conflicts play across his face, like a sunny day interrupted by a sudden rainstorm. He is scrolling through something on his phone; I can see his finger intermittently swipe to one side, resulting in yet another shift in the emotions behind his eyes. Finally, I catch a glimpse of his phone, and he’s flipping through pictures. Memories are like that; one moment it’s a spring day, and you are strolling along, listening to the birds singing, and the next, your socks are soaked through as you step in a surprisingly deep, icy cold puddle. 

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