A couple argues in the front row. I perch forward on my seat and fan myself with a leaflet foisted on me at the bus stop. The soft glow of an orange sunset flashes onto us in rhythmic intervals through the roadside trees. Overhead, a skein of geese glide home.
Marinda Kotze wrote this micro story on a long bus ride home.
I warned him not to go through the door; it was mayhem outside. He said he must because he had to live his life.
We met again, in Bogota, twenty years later. He was awfully skinny but seemed content. Looking back, he only said no door could ever stop him.
Johannes Springenseiss is a world citizen and raconteur. He mostly writes speculative fiction and creative essays, which he has published in various literary magazines.