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rfmcdonaldI waited twenty minutes at the Dufferin TTC station for a southbound bus. I'd walk the wait away, normally; normally, it isn't this cold out. I stayed huddle at the surface entrance with a steadily growing crowd of people, looking out the glass doors and occasionally turning our heads north towards the always impending bus.
A nicely dressed man in his 50s stood next to me: well-tended grey hair, professional-looking black leather jacket, dress shirt. When I first turned tiredly in his direction, I saw him chatting with a woman my age, with long black hair and a hooded jacket. I assumed at first that they knew each other, but her body language seemed off.
Five minutes passed. I turned in his direction again, only to see him talking to a different woman, a larger woman twice my age. She was trying to complete a crossword puzzle in one of the free dailies. She wasn't looking at him.
The bus arrives, and I board near the front. Before we get to College Street, a third woman--someone who looks well-tended but tired--calls to the person across from her, asking for the time. I call over after she doesn't get a response: "It's 10:50." No sooner do I do so than the man stands up and starts chatting with her. She says she lives with a Portuguese family; he says he lives near Dundas. She seems relaxed, but she is pressed into her seat.
She doesn't look at the man when he gets off the bus. Instead she turns to the young woman sitting next to her and begins talking. As she listens, her perfect pale white skin remains so still it doesn't look real.
A nicely dressed man in his 50s stood next to me: well-tended grey hair, professional-looking black leather jacket, dress shirt. When I first turned tiredly in his direction, I saw him chatting with a woman my age, with long black hair and a hooded jacket. I assumed at first that they knew each other, but her body language seemed off.
Five minutes passed. I turned in his direction again, only to see him talking to a different woman, a larger woman twice my age. She was trying to complete a crossword puzzle in one of the free dailies. She wasn't looking at him.
The bus arrives, and I board near the front. Before we get to College Street, a third woman--someone who looks well-tended but tired--calls to the person across from her, asking for the time. I call over after she doesn't get a response: "It's 10:50." No sooner do I do so than the man stands up and starts chatting with her. She says she lives with a Portuguese family; he says he lives near Dundas. She seems relaxed, but she is pressed into her seat.
She doesn't look at the man when he gets off the bus. Instead she turns to the young woman sitting next to her and begins talking. As she listens, her perfect pale white skin remains so still it doesn't look real.
