“The shadows are our homes. They hide starlight and any other light so as not to be seen by any potential enemy.”
“But shadows can be seen,” the Captain adds.
“Shadows frighten any stranger approaching. Shadows are the stuff nightmares are made of. And for the initiated, it may also be dark matter, best left untouched.”
“Dark matter?” the Captain asks.
“Don’t ask too many questions. We’re all bus drivers here. That’s our mission.“
“Your answers are full of holes,” the King says.
“And the women in the houses, they stay inside all day?” the Captain continues.
“They’re bus drivers’ wives. Don’t you get it?”
“That’s awful,” Labaguette comments, “at least I have wings, I’m free.”
“That’s our lives,” Jimmy says looking at them as if they must be stupid, “bus driving is a mission, it’s honourable, it’s one way to face life, it’s better than nothing and better than being a King. The kids ask me when they’ll get there, the workers read their newspapers and our wives keep themselves and the houses clean and invisible.”
Now the King scratches his head. “Clean and invisible? Driving buses…. Better than being I?” he asks.
“And when you drop dead having followed the guidelines, you go to heaven, right?” Captain Traumatic continues.
“Yeah, no fucking falling off the horizon line for you, Mate!” Labaguette tells Jimmy.
“We’re here,” Jimmy says, as he parks his bus at the bus depot.
To be continued…