On the bus he was brimming with confidence, watching every stranger board and following them from the turnstile where he sat all the way to their seats; surveying how they walked; with some trudging their feet along like shackled prisoners while others moved about in a light skip; some defeated by the monotonous and suited obedience of day while others were lighter and waking with waxing zest into the celestial lechery of night that was coloured electric.
- Excerpt: Coffee and Sugar (₢ C. Sean McGee)
- Excerpt: Coffee and Sugar (₢ C. Sean McGee)
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