The Little Old Man

Sometimes I would catch the bus to work. There was a little old man who would catch it too. He would be on the bus, upstairs, without fail.
Recently Cal and I moved. On a completely different bus route, I catch the bus to work.
The little old man is on these buses too. It is the same man.
What is he up to? I am afraid to speak to him.
NOTE: he walks very quickly, for a little old man.

2 thoughts on “The Little Old Man”

  1. That reminds me of the creepy guy with the beret who I used to see everywhere I went in public: on buses, on trains, at university, on the street…
    Then I was hanging out with my friend James McMenamin and he went “Oooh! Check out that guy who looks like a serial killer, I see him everywhere like he’s following me!” It was the same guy.
    I don’t see him anymore. Maybe he followed James to Brisbane.

  2. Maybe he’s not old. Maybe he uses a disguise. They usually do. But you’ve got to laugh, eh.

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