She has opened her shirt and is holding her breast. I must look away, it is impolite to stare at such moments, but the difficulty of turning away is great. Lingering, without being caught by her eye, I finally look away, but all I can see in the still air is her brown nipple rubbing against the baby s cheek and then being devoured. I will sing to the couple, love songs. Lovers are the best for tips.
Old men are the best for tears.
Others fill the seats all the way back to the smelly last seat by the toilet. This bus will go over the mountains and the toilet will fill the bus with a stench all the way up to Uncle. Maybe all the way up to God. Half of these people will be nauseous in an hour. I will be off the bus before then.