Two women talk in the seat in front of me on the bus just past Safeco Field. One says, "Little Bit stabbed someone by the Jack in the Box over a dollar. Over a dollar." And they go back and forth for a while.
"Over a dollar?" Ove
(more)r a dollar.
I think about the beauty of language, of repitition. Over a dollar. Over a dollar. I wonder about Little Bit and how she got named Little Bit. Little Bit who, according to the first speaker, just got housing three months ago and is now running from the police. "The minute she comes home to her apartment, they're supposed to call the po-lice," the woman says. "And I gave her three brand new comforters. I want my comforters back."
The women laugh and start talking about someone else who is living in Vegas and making 2000 to 3000 dollars a day. She just got hooked up with a guy who owns a ranch.
"A ranch?"
"A ranch."
But I'm still thinking about Little Bit who is hiding somewhere in Seattle and probably wanting to come home, Little Bit who just this morning stabbed someone over a dollar. (less)
