I want to read a love story that is not exactly a love story. Not sexual or romantic love at least.

A special connection story.

I want this story to be a story about normal people. That kind of normal that makes some people think they've got nothing special about them. And the rest of people don't think about them at all.

I want a story about a jitney driver and a mechanic working at an old factory. The mechanic's parents used to work at the same factory, and his uncle used to, and his cousin, and his grand parents.

His parents and his uncle and his cousin and his grand parents say that it is because all their family is proud of their job, even if it doesn't pay much.

His son - he will have a son in five or six years, after he finally meets a woman who likes him back, - his son will say it is because they all don't know anything better.

The Mechanic takes a jitney to the factory at 7:30, Monday to Friday. He sits in the front, next to a driver. There are seventeen drivers working this route. The Mechanic doesn't know that. He knows there are different drivers, he recognizes some of them. And among drivers The Mechanic recognizes there is The Driver.

If we saw all the seventeen drivers working there, The Driver wouldn't seem any different to us. But he is different. The difference is that every time The Mechanic passes The Driver his money, he tries to touch his hand. Every time The Mechanic puts his change in The Driver's hand, his finrertips brush The Driver's palm, just slightly. The Driver doesn't take his eyes off the road, takes the money, gives back a ticket, like nothing happened. The Mechanic takes the ticket and looks at the road, too. Like nothing happened.

Some might think it is something like a good luck charm for him.

It is not.

It's hard to say what it is.

One morning he has accidentally touched a driver's hand passing the money. Two days after he did it, too, accidentally, too. And he remembered that driver. And he started doing it every time he sat next to that driver.

That's how a driver became The Driver.

There are seventeen drivers working this route. (And The Mechanic doesn't know that.) There are hundreds of people taking this route every day. And The Mechanic does know that. Hundreds of people give driver the money. Lots of them accidentally touch his hand. It is a jitney, and it means it's shakey, and it means accidental touching is nothing to pay attention to. Sometimes The Mechanic thinks about it, sitting by The Driver, watching The Driver's hand resting on a gear stick.

“I bet he doesn't even notice”, The Mechanic thinks.

The Driver does.

@темы: (1500 ~ +∞], делаю себе настроение, пар