CONTAINS: PEANUT.

We's

Marie sat on the hard plastic bus terminal bench, staring. A man sat across from her. He looked at the floor. Marie wondered if he was curious about how all those little speckles got into the tiles too.

“Don’t stare Baby,” her mother said then ruffled her magazine and continued reading.

“I’m not.” Marie continued to watch the man. His hair was dark. Greasy tufts stuck out in all directions from under a knitted cap that was too tight for his head. His clothes were rumpled and dirty. He wore a large dark green jacket and brown pants. Long johns the color of dirty dish water poked through holes and worn spots in his pants.

Bar art at its finest.

It's Pacman!