He sat in the back of the bus. The old seats plastic and worn, their dull blue colour faded. His knee bobbing up and down as he tapped his right foot, humming along to a tune nobody else could hear. He was dressed in navy slacks, short enough that when he was seated you could see his brown argyle socks poking out of his dark chocolaty brown suede leather shoes. A white dress shirt, crisp and ironed, could be seen underneath the deep navy jacket he wore, that sported big silver button on the flaps of the front pockets.
Having paid my fair at the front of the bus, I made my way towards the back, where the seats were empty save for the mysterious gentleman. I approached, taking a seat about two spots left of the man and carefully putting my old bag on the empty seat to my right. Hazarding a glance, I noticed a vividly silver necktie, made of what looked like silk, and embroidered in a dainty cursive that boasted the initials E. L.
He reached for the window and the sudden movement surprised me. Opening the window with a whistle, he adjusted the fedora he had on his head, and for a fleeting instance I could see the silver hair, peppered with strands of black. Soon, the hat was back on his head, hiding the mark of time. He tipped it to the side, the front coming down further than in the back.
Crossing his arms and stretching out his legs, he relaxed. His foot still tapping, I was now close enough to hear the words he was humming.
“I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of havin' you near
In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear:
Don't you know, you fool, you never can win?
Use your mentality, wake up to reality.
But each time that I do just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin
'Cause I've got you under my skin.”