“I thought you could take a break from Fruity Birds,” announced Reed.
“Do I, do I know you?” The woman pressed herself against the side of the bus.
“You don’t remember?” Reed was friendly, “We met a few weeks ago,” he said.
“Oh, at Jen’s party then?”
“Yes, exactly, near the laptop. We talked about the music,” it was as if someone patted her on the head.
“Oh, yes, must have been the pop?”
“Yes, exactly, the pop.”
They both laughed. Reed, of course, had never met this woman in his entire life, but what a waste of her beautiful face to have it drained of emotion, paralyzed as her mind took flight within her device.
Later that evening, he gently pulled his arm out from under her, and silently collected his clothes. He looked back to see her face, flushed and red. Her body inhaled deeply. She wasn’t sleeping, but wouldn’t wake. She was smiling.