Headphones in my ears. The radio lost signal. White noise. At least no one bothers me. The man next to me gets up, gets out, comes back in, sits down. I have to move my feet to make room for him each time.
A fraction of a song. "We both know we ain't kids no more...." All the songs are about you. White noise.
He gets up again, kicks my foot and looks down at it as if at a weird wild animal that jumped at him. He doesn't look up at me. Doesn't apologize. My foot is a separate entity.
The kid behind me says the boogieman took his teeth. I hate kids. No, I don't hate them. I just don't like them. That's not the truth either, but my feelings concerning children are too complicated to be explained or understood by anyone.
Comes back, sits down. I stretch my feet again.
All these people going nowhere.
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