A Wheelchair and Two Strollers with a Slight Chance of the Mission

Davy Carren
Jul 21, 2017 · 17 min read

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As the Bus Turns, Part 5

I don’t know. I am not sure. I was in the midst of battling through a hangover the size of Arkansas, the grenadiers in my skull taking full advantage of the opportunity to pester me like an infiltration of mosquitoes, and the last place in the world I wanted to be was on the 27-Bryant headed south. But, as is often the case, one is never quite where one wishes one were most. A real cement mixer of a morning, to say the least. The beef-broth sky was just a grubby scramble diced with mushes of unrefined deliverance — my head was in about the same condition. I kept all things nonessential out of the picture, doing a lot of sidewalk gazing as I hobbled toward the bus stop at Hyde and Clay. There’s only so much one can take at a time like this.

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