Handling
I.
A couple walks down a main street of the campus, holding hands in such a way that makes me feel like I shouldn’t be looking. I look. In fact, without my glasses, I almost bump into them before dashing across the street in a grand gesture of nonchalance. Like flying too close to a celebrity: what are you doing in plain view? Get behind a lens/The sun is a star.
I didn’t recognize either of them.
II.
A boy kisses a girl as he loads her into a bus, and I almost trip over the stairs/stares. For some reason, I imagine them in a black and white film. Him, gently guiding her into a car with a caress of the neck, and she helplessly waving a gloved hand as he trudges off to war— backpack and all.
