Monday, February 18, 2013
Part I. of III. He enters the bus through its front door. Looking around at the passengers, he sees nothing out of the ordinary, yet is simultaneously aware of feelings of foreboding. To say there is a greenish light would be to misapprehend the situation. The air itself appears green, as if clouded by a sickly, verdant pollen. He orients his mass to walk to the back of the bus, while it pushes off from its stop. A series of minute calculations, the end result being an awkward but effective lurch toward his ultimate goal, feet leading perspicaciously while the fragile brain bucket follows behind.