The vibration has seduced and massaged me into a trance. I smile contentedly as I watch the miles of houses parade by. Finally a decrepit, empty storefront passes, telling me to ring the bell and get off of the bus.
The bus snorts and roars off. The sooty, warm exhaust wraps around me like the blanket I’m going to be under in just a few minutes. The light says “Walk”. I step into the street.
I can’t quite put my finger on what, exactly. It might even be something important. I roll over and mull this conundrum casually.
A breeze blows past my ear, and when I try to pull my blanket over me, I notice the something. I don’t have a blanket. Oh yeah, I’m not home yet.
But I’m not walking, either. This really is a puzzle. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, I’m flying. Yes, yes, that’s it. I feel better, having solved the riddle.
Wait a second, that’s not right. Yes, I am really flying, but I don’t think I should be. Hmmm, riddles within riddles.
OK, what was I doing before I started flying? I got off the bus, then I stepped into the street, then I felt a bump, then I was flying.
Interesting. I think the bump’s the key here. What would bump me? Oh, of course! I’m such an idiot. I must have been hit by a car. Since I’m in midair, it must have been a good hit, too.
Well, at least I don’t hurt. But something tells me there’s more to this somehow… oh yeah! If a car has launched me into the air, that means I must be about to hit…
I slam against the pavement and slide out into the intersection. My ears suddenly work again and I hear all the city noises, the screeching of tires.
I get up and examine my side. A large patch of my jeans is missing, revealing an ugly mess that will probably really hurt later on.
I look at the car that struck me. Inside the car, a woman is apparently having a polite, quiet nervous breakdown. I feel sorry for her. She looks at me. I wave and begin to walk home.
The man at the corner stares at me wide-eyed. “Hey buddy, are you OK?”
“Yeah,” I yell back, “I’m just tired.”
Bed sure feels good.