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Sticky Afternoon

by Rajah Dodger (c) 1994, 2009

It was a sticky afternoon, and Karl was tired of waiting for the bus, tired of looking for work, just plain tired. He tapped his fingers impatiently against his briefcase as he slouched against the building in the July heat. He grumbled to himself from time to time about the short-sightedness of personnel managers who seemed to want fresh young (read: cheap) applicants instead of someone who knew the business and could be productive in only a few hours.

The bus pulled up to the stop with a collection of squeaks and the raw odor of exhaust. Karl wrinkled his nose as he swung himself up the metal steps, tossed a few coins in the box and plopped down in the first available seat. As he did so, his hip collided with a somewhat attractive-looking matron who was sitting by the window. Karl apologized, and she accepted his apology with a brief but winning smile. That smile helped Karl overcome both his natural reticence and the attitude he had been building, and they chatted as the bus rattled and bumped its way out of the downtown traffic.

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