Non-Fiction Short Stories. Travel, oldsters, love, moments worthy of pause. Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
The teenage girl wears a tshirt that reads: “Love My Smile,” but she isn’t smiling. She stands next to an ad for shoes where none of the models are smiling. She hasn’t smiled in at least 20 minutes, and stands among her friends trying to appear unmoved. She stares straight-faced at a sixty-something bus driver in a white button-up shirt that is unbuttoned to his sternum. He nods at her. Still no smile.
A bus driver in a peach shirt hops out of his bus, goes to the right side, and unearths a tire iron from the cargo area. He tightens the lug nuts on his rear tire. People on this side of his bus peer down at first, but then try not to watch him work. Perhaps it is better not to notice, not to wonder what made him worry about that particular tire, especially if you’re sitting right above it.
And the girl? Still not smiling. (But I am.)