Tasting their life lines on their palms, I separated them from their previous location, and they stretched straight to the driver’s seat. There gleamed a huge steering wheel, controlled by someone exceedingly skillful.
— The route is already marked. We should probably go there, — I suggested.
— Especially since he’s waiting for us. And doesn’t turn on the radio for this honorable occasion, — You confirmed.
Unbuckling, they walked through the steadily moving bus, from which an entire half had broken away. The roof really interfered with observing the inner structure, and so this redesign helped transform public transport for the better.
The satisfied driver confirmed this.
In his place lay a body split in two, looking like an already unnecessary shell. In the thickets of guts, broken bones, and hanging limbs sat a wooden mannequin with a purposeful face. They had forgotten to carve out eyes.
Which could not be said of his sense of responsibility, which fed this unbendingness. Therefore the mannequin’s voice sounded not as befits something that was recently a tree trunk, but ringing and energetic:
— Thank you! My deepest gratitude on behalf of me and my iron friend. We rarely agreed in tastes. I prefer to walk on my own limbs, and he rides on wheels. And this sometimes became an obstacle to friendship. You solved the problem very elegantly, for which I grant you the right of free passage.
I returned a respectful bow, bending slightly and blessing the steering wheel with my palm for further successful journeys. As for You, he shook the driver’s hand, driving several splinters into himself and immediately returning them to the bearer.
He also decided to warn:
— Ahead of us, a brake slam awaits.
The driver evidently thought so too. Stopping right in the middle of the dark road, lit only by several fireflies replacing headlights, they waited until the new passenger reached the bus.
A girl with tangled dark hair, in a white nightgown, holding a torn teddy bear, dragged herself along. One of her feet noticeably lagged, while the other moved much more briskly. And so she still managed to cross the necessary distance and enter the cabin.
— It’s cool in here, — she shrugged her shoulders, wheezing with rotten ligaments. — Even I can feel it, though cold supposedly isn’t dangerous to me. Though other things shouldn’t concern me either, yet it turns out quite the opposite. If you want, I’ll tell you, once you give me a cigarette and light it.
The driver had everything needed in the glove compartment, and the pack flew into the girl’s mouth. She began chewing the contents of the pack with great pleasure and purring contentedly. At the same time she glanced at I and You, who were spinning in a round dance, holding hands.
— You’re strange. You don’t invite others to join your joy. You’re greedy. And you also look like Shadow-People, if I didn’t know they disappeared from the info field long ago. — Her speech was almost unintelligible from the abundance of tobacco in her throat.
For a moment I was distracted and asked sympathetically:
— Are you grieving? Tell us, what is that even like?
To this the passenger only replied, spitting out everything that was getting in her way:
— Not only they disappeared. Those Dusky People. I myself fell out of contemporary discourse and became of interest to no one. And here you are roaming this forgotten place and know nothing of longing. You just enjoy everything that’s happening. Damn hedonists… — she finished spitefully.
— Feelings — are they something you experience at a specific moment? — You clarified, for reference. And this angered their interlocutor even more. Irritated, she pinched off a piece of rotten flesh from her arm and tossed it to the rats swarming in the corner of the bus.
The driver decided to intervene and explain:
— Thank you very much for helping me and my friend reunite. And now let us continue the journey.
The girl shot him an unfriendly look as well and hissed:
— He’s the same! None of you know hardship. This driver keeps waiting for retirement, but can’t stop driving because he’s become kin with the road. It’s dearer to him than contributions to an account. And me — they simply threw me out, calling me a talentless cliché that fell out of the mainstream.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.