Photography: Barbara Mal
Model: Suzanne Zhang
Model: Suzanne Zhang
THE BUS DID NOT STOP FOR ME
I waited 36 minutes at the bus stop and it did not stop for me. I waited 12 more minutes and it felt like an old party I could not attend. Fists clenched from the cold, I thought it was funny how if you grit your teeth hard enough they will move inches but not mountains, leaving a taste of bloody accordion and- if even the bus did not stop for me, who am I to blame you for not moving hills and taking my pulse? Nursing myself back home is not an easy task. And -if even the bus did not stop for me who am I to blame you for not following with gritted teeth, trying to taste novocaine but only licking on rusty blood clots? It’s cold outside and like an old party I can’t attend, I await at the bus stop of a city stranger than me. by Suzanne Zhang - existencial cat, flower lover, colour hater, story teller & contributor writer at Rooms magazine. |
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