Thursday 7 April 2005

The Fingersmith

(Not that version, My version!) Some man gets on the bus pushing a sleeping toddler in a buggy with one hand, a rucksack slung over one shoulder which he is trying to keep up whilst talking on the phone. My mind makes a comparison to those men you see parking their cars (cars with powersteering) whilst holding and talking on the phone. Trying to do important things together without due care and attention comes to into my mind.

He parks the buggy in the alloted area and then comes and sits by me, which I think is strange because the bus isn't too crowded and this isn't usually a seat of choice for baby carers. He acts a bit weird. He keeps thinking I'm looking at him when I'm not really I'm just looking past him at the street on the other side of the road. Then he starts shifting in his seat, ever so slightly so his back is towards me. His rucksack in covering his lap and leaning on my leg.

then I become aware of the faintest of tickling sensations on my thigh, close to my coat pocket. I shift. He shifts. I feel it again. When I move my hand down it goes away. I get my pass out of the other pocket on that side. The tickling starts again.

I feel sure he's checking my pocket out. But I have a slight doubt. I am relieved I never keep anything in there. But when I get off I feel violated in a creepy kind of way. And everyone in the street seems to be behaving like freaks. I can't wait to get inside where I can get away from people.

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