I was sitting on the city bus and waiting patiently for it to take me home. It was supposed to be a short ride - ten minutes at the most - and barely memorable. As fate would have it, this was not meant to be.
The bus slowed down to a halt and my younger brother boarded the bus. He traveled toward the back of the bus to find an open seat and the bus began moving again. Shortly afterwards, a guy sitting behind me initiated a very interesting conversation with the lady sitting adjacent to him.
"Did you know that he and him are brothers?" said the man.
"Wow really? I didn't know. So they're both... umm... well... you know?" asked the lady with an innocent-sounding curiosity.
It was transparent that me and my younger brother was the main the topic of this conversation. I listened closely.
"Yeah I guess so," replied the man.
"Kind of makes you wonder what happened to them. I mean, what made them turn out that way?"
I could have turned around and thrown a clever comment their way, but I didn't. I sat quietly in my seat until the bus stopped near my house. My brother and I hopped off the bus, and we walked silently side-by-side.
I was inwardly steaming and pondered whether or not to tell my younger brother about what had just transpired. To say the least, it is far from pleasant to hear strangers talk about me and my younger brother as if we were mutants. Although I have seen the man and lady regularly on the bus, in essence they are strangers to me. When we finally arrived home, I told my younger brother about their interesting conversation.
"That's not very nice," he said.
And he was right. It wasn't nice at all.
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