Route 72S was known to many with jobs in the inner city, especially to Charlie. He had sat on the same bus, at the same time for almost nine years right after the second year of his college. He knew every seat on the bus, every driver and almost every passenger. However he spoke to none, he just knew them by the color of their clothes, their preferred seats, their bus-stops and their shoes. Of course their shoes, for Charlie preferred to stare at the floor most of the time. He hated faces, for he thought the faces lied, the faces cried, and the faces left a lasting impression, maybe even a scar or two on his heart! He knew one such face before he moved to the city, but alas, it was never meant to be! In this cold and aloof city of millions of desperate souls, Charlie had become numb, quite