From Seattle: "Dirt on Blue Sleeves, " by Nathan Vass

I hear the second man muttering. They're the only people on the bus– it's my last trip, a late-night short 49 to close out the evening. The pair strike me as first-generation African versions of the Odd Couple, or maybe Laurel & Hardy, except this time Hardy's not tall and heavy, but the short squat fellow. (Read the whole story here.)