Monotony

She took a deep breath and sighed looking at the color of her skin as though she had noticed its existence for the first time.

A stranger, sitting behind her, lent closer and took a sniff. He was certain he had known that dried flower scent of shampoo before. A horse voice asked him to go sit in the men’s seat. She noticed none of it as her eyes widened, her hand only becoming more fascinating. She looked at the white faces and white teeth on bill boards. she looked back at her own skin and though “night and day”. but the sky was grey. Very grey.

She couldn’t see the sun from where she sat. Glass and concrete blocked her view. She turned around  and saw the old lady turn away quickly and awkwardly try to hide the fact that she was caught staring. The bus smelt funny, it bounced up and down so much, she thought that maybe it wanted to though up. The conductor mumbled something about the radio and she noticed that a dusty old poster hung behind the wall behind the driver in the dusty old bus.

It was a calendar. Or it had been. The part with the dates had been torn away. Maybe some angry souls decided that the bus would never stop. It would creak and puff smoke on a never ending road. The victim must have ripped the poster apart in frustrated protest. As she stared ahead eyes wide open, the woman next to her decided she looked rather stupid. And ugly, yes very ugly. The old lady turned quickly ,before the object of her examination broke her stare, and wondered if the stupid thing was trying to catch her in the act of staring.

There was no nail polish on her fingers, a few traces remained on her toes. It was going to start raining. the old lady next to her started grumbling in some tongue she didn’t understand. The window wouldn’t close and the bus seemed like it would never stop.

She looked at her hand but felt no curiosity anymore. She looked outside again and saw concrete and glass towers. The sky was grey, maybe grayer.

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