Bus Stop Stories: Crumpled Fedora

Rod and Emerile were laughing. Rod nodded, I returned with a weak smile. He picked it up quickly.

The figure next to me held the brim of a fedora slowly twisting it out of shape. Rod elbowed Emerile. Both went silent staring up the street as if looking for the bus.

Fingers squeezed into fists around the felt. They trembled as they settled upon his knees.

An occasional sigh was cut off by chocking sounds. He placed the fedora snuggly over his knee and gently took his left hand in his right. His thumb barely touched the ring Continue reading

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