Day Two.






Passive couples waiting on the bus. As you walk down the aisles they look neither stimulated nor content. You notice as you pass their hands quietly placed one on another, on top of her thigh. The headrest interrupts your view as you take your seat further up the bus. For the rest of the journey you can only see the tops of their backs of the of the sides of their heads. Not moving. Not worrying.
I'm worrying. No i'm not, I'm wondering; where are their hands? I'm really not really worried.

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