[Reaction]
[This was a place of death. He knew this. He knew this, and he did not need to be inside this malnourished man to comprehend that Death would knock soon upon this door and invite these men to follow. He did not wish to look upon the limbs he possessed now. They were not his own, and this was a familiar feeling, but it was not a pleasant one. He, who had been different than he was now, understood, but it was not the same. He had never longed for the long fingers and soft palms of a woman. He wished to be strong and become the pride of his large family. This coveting was not something he understood, though he felt it now like itch upon his skin.
He did not like this remembering. He stood outside the bus station, a spiced cigarette wrapped in black paper burning down in coral and singe. At the end of the night, as it was now, his hair was long. His face was tired, and the flame of his eyes showed in his exhaustion. This had been a long day, ferrying people from this town and the magic here. He smoked the entire cigarette, and this was an odd addiction for one such as he, but he inhaled very deeply, and then he spat the feelings this memory left upon the sidewalk.