He boarded the 578, which stopped at stop B, and got a seat at the back of the bus. He looked at the thirty or so passengers on the bus.
Couples and friends were obvious. Couples touched each other. They held hands or leaned together. Some hugged and kissed as if they had to fit in as much physical contact as possible before the separation of the working day. Friends talked, smiled and laughed. The strangers sat next to each other in the intimate space of the bus seat, often sharing more body heat through the enforced contact with the person alongside them than they shared with any other person in their day. Yet the strangers ignored each other. They stared blankly from glazed eyes, read papers, magazines or novels, blissed out plugged into their iPods or feigned sleep. It was a rare sight to see two apparent strangers strike up a conversation on a bus.
Paul wondered why he didn’t speak to the person he was sitting next to. He looked at her as she gazed out the window. He was old enough to be her father but he couldn’t help admiring the curves of her young body. Just as well most people couldn’t read auras. His would betray his lust every time he looked at a gorgeous young woman.
He wondered if young women noticed. Or did age give older men a veil of invisibility? What chance did the average forty to fifty year old male have of scoring with a gorgeous twenty something year old? He wasn’t even on her radar screen. That’s why he didn’t talk to her. He looked away.
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