A man eats a brick of parmesan cheese on the bus. Seated next to me, he’s white haired and pink, his bright orange Joe Fresh bag divides us. I watch him eat his smelly brick, the plastic cling falling over his fingers, $19.15, it reads.

He catches me staring, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he guards his cheese then changes seats.

from In Transit by leaf jerlefia

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