Magic Comes and Goes

I'm less and less impressed with the way you express yourself, young man, said his teacher.

She had been watching him, all semester. From day one. And there was something disturbing about this young person. Everyone else did as they were instructed to, tried or pretended to. It was dark now, by three o'clock. His grades weren't even good.

The city bus driver was no more impressed by the youth. Long hair unclean, rags from some charitable organization so disheveled he failed to evoke empathy; no hello, eye-contact elusive.

The bus driver consumed hours of adult entertainment, at home.

She never corrected papers after ten at night. It was impossible to objectively grade Religion after ten.

Years later, on the bus, she noticed the driver looking at her sexually.