Non-Fiction Short Stories. Travel, oldsters, love, moments worthy of pause. Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
Post-fender-bender, the two men pull into the bus station parking lot to inspect the damage. Those of us waiting for buses watch with delight any activity that may pass the time. These men fit the bill.
They are in their late twenties, perhaps early thirties. The sedan bumped the van, but the van has a trailer hitch, so there isn’t much damage. Nonetheless, the van driver dusts his bumper and glowers. The men argue in front of their audience from tall, upright and affronted postures, their shoulders up and back. They don’t raise their arms above their elbows but rest them at their sides, then raise them in low angles to help emphasize their displeasure. They gesture toward each other from for a few minutes, then go to their vehicles and drive away rather calmly.
I laugh with a color-coordinated elderly couple–he in a burgundy jacket and she in a burgundy top. We don’t interact much either. We smile together for a moment, then go back to our individual bus wait, standing nearby but turning away.