transitions

by Kalan Cordell

The shuttle bus arrives. T. is eager to leave everything behind—including me. The bright headlights are somewhat blinding. I should say something. But I don’t know what. I simply listen to the patter of footsteps as other escapees board the transit to a different life.

Well, this is it, T. says.

I’ll just kill time until you return, I reply.

T. smirks and says, and if I don’t return?

Then I’ll kill time until it finally kills me.

He laughs at what he believes is a joke. Then we embrace each other. My heart knocks against his; a vacant space not seeking any settlers. There’s a brief moment of silence before the shuttle horn blares.

I watch as T. boards, slinging duffle bag over shoulder. Five years. Joy. Tears. Laughs. All yanked inside a metal box going west. T. gives a final glance then turns around. The shuttle tires groan as it drives away.

And I stay here, forever.

Photo of Kalan Cordell

BIO: Kalan is a black, queer writer based in Boston. He has been published Reed Magazine, Beyond Queer Words, and more. Kalan is currently an MFA student at Emerson. His favorite authors include Hervè Guibert, Scott Heim, and Clive Barker. He is inspired by fleeting connections and how they mold us, along with shoegaze music. Kalan’s instagram is: @flesh.balloon