Saturday, April 19, 2008

honeymooning with richard brautigan: day three

ending on a sad note.

"I was young. Everybody else on the bus, about nineteen of them, were men and women in their sixties, seventies and eighties, and I only in my twenties. They stared at me and I started at them. We were all embarrased and uncomfortable.
How had this happened? Why were we suddenly the players in this cruel fate and could not take our eyes off one another?
A man about seventy-eight began to clutch desperately at the lapel of his coat. A woman maybe sixty-three began to filter her hands, finger by finger, through a white handkerchief.
I felt terrible to remind them of their lost youth, their passage through slender years in such a cruel and unusual manner. Why were we tossed this way together as if we were nothing but a weird salad served on the seats of a God-damn bus?"
--from THE OLD BUS


"His baggy no-style clothes covered him like the banner of a defeated country and he looked as if they only mail he had ever gotten in his life were bills."

i want to give this last line to Andrea. i think she will appreciate it.

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