The Woman From The West Indies
Riding on the Greyhound Bus
Williamsport to Philadelphia
1983
My hopes of having the two seats on the bus to myself are
shattered as this tall woman leans over to me and asks, “Is anyone sitting
here.” I contemplate lying to her but
the bus is filling up and if she doesn’t take the seat, maybe the old, smelly
man coming down the aisle will. So I
surrender begrudgingly and move my bag.
She effortlessly slithers into the seat. I speculate by her accent that she must have
been from the British West Indies. She
grabs my arm as she speaks to me. Her hands are rather spidery and something
unnerved me as she wraps her long, spender fingers around my forearm and leans
on my shoulder and quickly falls to sleep.
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