Thursday, May 20, 2004

Strange dance

He boarded the bus and started to talk to the driver. This is not the bus I usually take and I am a stranger in an unfamiliar territory. A place with its unknown code, the unspoken rules by which the regulars recognize each others. We have not left the bus stop.
He is still talking to the bus driver who turns around and announces "Can everyone check under their seat if they see some keys?"
I plunge to look. Everyone else is doing the same. Each in their own ways. A strange dance being performed in a bus.
The guy is pacing the bus up and down. No key. He exits the bus with a dejected air.
Instinctively, I pad my pockets to check I do have my keys. Is it for reassurance or a small proclamation of victory, of superiority over the poor soul who just walked out? I'm not sure. Many in the bus are doing the same.


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