Fifty statues, they stood gazing, stone-faced and slack-jawed. Within the narrow, steel queue gate they inscribed a yet narrower oval, the circumference of which gyrated to the bloody, pummeling blows of three infuriated men.
The two younger ones soon overpowered the businessman, who defended his laptop with one hand, and his life with the other. Eight unanswered fists struck his cowering body, back and face. Onlookers looked on, and nothing more.
As bus #930 edged up to the bulbous cue, attention was torn between witnessing an assault and securing a seat. The latter won out among the crowd majority, which forcibly ended the battle in a stampede towards the door.
Severed from his attackers, the businessman fumbled for his cell phone, pleading for emergency assistance and intermittently shouting obscenities. The assailants fled, returning obscenities as they withdrew. When the victim finally boarded the bus, no seats remained.
No comments:
Post a Comment