“Why is that man screaming?”
He looked at me. “I don’t know, he’s always there, like that.”
The man’s mouth was stretched out in a howl. Some unknown language came out of him. It was neither humane or inhumane. It was something inhuman. The sound of it sent chills up my skin. “What is he screaming about?”
“Who knows?” The man sighed. “Why does anybody scream about anything anymore?”
As we boarded the train the man looked at me, his sound still coming out of him, ceasless and frightening. I wasn’t afraid to admit I experienced a sense of cliché- being afraid of the scary homeless man. But the station smelled like piss and it had been a long trip. He was fucking tired and just wanted to get some rest.
There were other worries, too.
“That’s really reassuring.”
He smiled. “Sorry, it’s the truth.”
“Well, the truth is disturbing.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “It’s a really nice thing to hear.”
The man he had met on the internet smiled. “Sorry.” He said. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
He took in the man. In his picture, he’d had hair. Now he looked like fester Adamms. “Whatever.”
“Did you have an okay trip?”
He shrugged. “Sat next to some nice couple.” He always lucked out on train seats. To think he got on a train to get on another one. He was always going somewhere. “Read the whole time.”
The man he had met hadn’t kissed him yet. “That sounds good.”
They had so much to talk about over email. The silence between them and lack of connection worried him. He wondered if he was going to fuck him.