May Well Be
Ephram bends Colin's fingers backward as a last resort and says, "stop," because he has no other ideas, and Colin's speaking way too fast.
"Yeah, man?" Colin asks; he hasn't even noticed that Ephram's hand is still lingering somewhere near his, on the comic book, over his lap. The bus bounces merrily along.
"Just-" and Ephram's first instinct is to say "calm down" but Colin hasn't exactly been enthusiastic much lately, so it's probably best not to kill his spirits. Instead, he goes with, "What were you saying?"
Colin asks Ephram about his favorite comics, looking at the one spread on his thighs. Ephram scoots until his shoulder touches the window and pulls his feet up until they're tucked between the rest of him and the back of the seat in front of them. His spine will start to ache in a few minutes, but he doesn't care.
Ephram watches Colin's hand twitch at the corner of the pages and is actually afraid he's going to fold them for a second. He's like that with everybody about different things; never voices his worries, except for maybe a little noise in his throat. Only when it's important, when it really bugs him, does he say something. It's not his best quality. There are quite a few things he'd like to say-about different issues-if he simply had the nerve.
Colin closes the comic. Ephram reaches in his bag and hands him the next one.
"How many you think we'll get through before we get there?" Colin tilts the comic back and forth. Light slides over the top, and Ephram can't tell which window it's coming from.
He says, "It'll be a while." That sounds a lot less cheesy than, "Well, read and find out."
Their conversation starts to sound a lot like one they've had before with a few new tangents, but he doesn't dwell too much on that either. Colin's grinning, and laughing at some of Ephram's dry humor. Ephram spends five minutes half-pondering what to call Colin's new mood and decides that he looks notably happy.
Ephram bends Colin's fingers backward as a last resort and says, "stop," because he has no other ideas, and Colin's speaking way too fast.
"Yeah, man?" Colin asks; he hasn't even noticed that Ephram's hand is still lingering somewhere near his, on the comic book, over his lap. The bus bounces merrily along.
"Just-" and Ephram's first instinct is to say "calm down" but Colin hasn't exactly been enthusiastic much lately, so it's probably best not to kill his spirits. Instead, he goes with, "What were you saying?"
Colin asks Ephram about his favorite comics, looking at the one spread on his thighs. Ephram scoots until his shoulder touches the window and pulls his feet up until they're tucked between the rest of him and the back of the seat in front of them. His spine will start to ache in a few minutes, but he doesn't care.
Ephram watches Colin's hand twitch at the corner of the pages and is actually afraid he's going to fold them for a second. He's like that with everybody about different things; never voices his worries, except for maybe a little noise in his throat. Only when it's important, when it really bugs him, does he say something. It's not his best quality. There are quite a few things he'd like to say-about different issues-if he simply had the nerve.
Colin closes the comic. Ephram reaches in his bag and hands him the next one.
"How many you think we'll get through before we get there?" Colin tilts the comic back and forth. Light slides over the top, and Ephram can't tell which window it's coming from.
He says, "It'll be a while." That sounds a lot less cheesy than, "Well, read and find out."
Their conversation starts to sound a lot like one they've had before with a few new tangents, but he doesn't dwell too much on that either. Colin's grinning, and laughing at some of Ephram's dry humor. Ephram spends five minutes half-pondering what to call Colin's new mood and decides that he looks notably happy.
