The bus makes a sudden, sharp left turn, pressing me against the man beside me. I'm hyper-aware of his stubble grazing my cheek, my nerves tingling from the brief, foreign touch. As I pull away, he smiles at me, but his focus is on the window.
A creature with furry limbs, like four-fingered hands, creeps up the pane. Its hairy oval body gleams deep blue where the streetlamps hit it.
"That's vile!" The woman behind us sidles past, seeking refuge at the front.
"It's okay, don't worry," the man says. Amused, I’m about to thank him when his hand inches upward and carefully encloses the furry thing in his palm. A strange mix of surprise, awe, and revulsion prickles at my fingertips.
"I got you," he whispers into his fist.
For the strangest moment, it feels like I’m the one he’s holding. My throat tightens. Embarrassed, I turn away, hoping he doesn’t notice.
The next stop nears, and he smiles at me again—this time, his eyes are on mine. As he moves past, I shift just enough for his knee to graze my thigh. The doors sigh shut behind him, and I watch as he crouches on a grassy patch. The city bus rolls on, but I keep looking until I can’t see him anymore.
