It was wonderfully cold and overcast as I climbed on to the bus. I was completely decked out like a plaid-covered throwback to 1993, topped off with a black trench coat and old black military boots. I stood up in the back of the bus, and read a piece (or was it a tantrum) on the dissection and bastardization of our collective depressing youth for the sake of promoting commercial bullshit. In other words, it was the most perfect day I could have here.

When I finished reading my article, I happened to glance back at the row of seats behind me. Lo and behold, what should I see but one of the most beautiful people I had ever laid eyes upon. I couldn’t make out the gender, but that was irrelevant. Whatever the person was, it was sheer heaven. Instantly, I was transported to a time when I wasn’t concerned about the rules of society and could fall in love on a dime with a fantasy person that I had conjured up out of a mere image. It made me long for the days when I hadn’t a care in the world. Just looking at the straggly unstyled short hair, the ragged blue jeans, the clipping torn out of a newspaper clutched firmly against a bus transfer in cut, scabbed hands; it all reminded me of when I would watch beautiful people (in my eyes) in high school. What effeminate features, what a thin firm frame… Oh, how I missed the lovely androgynous dandies of yesteryear.

The mere sight of the person filled me with so much wonder and brought back so many great feelings of the past. It was so delightful, I didn’t even want to sing. Usually a song follows my entire life, like a bad soundtrack (or a good one, depending on your point of view), played from the bottomless jukebox that is my head. There wasn’t a single melody this time.

Despite the fact that it reminded me of the past, the moment was very here and now. But just like the here and now, in an instant it was over.