Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose
He was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina, on the way to somewhere, and it began to snow
And the bus stopped at a little cafe in the hills, and the passengers entered
He sat at the counter with the others, he ordered food, and the food arrived
And the meal was particularly good, and so was the coffee
The waitress was unlike the women he had known
She was unaffected. There was a natural humor which came from her
The fry cook said crazy things, the dishwasher in the back laughed a good, clean, pleasant laugh
The young man watched the snow through the windows
He wanted to stay in that cafe forever
The curious feeling swam through him that everything was beautiful there
That it would always stay beautiful there
Then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board
The young man thought, "I'll just sit here, I'll just stay here"
But then he rose and followed the others into the bus
He found his seat and looked at the cafe through the bus window
Then the bus moved off, down a curve, downward, out of the hills
The young man looked straight forward
He heard the other passengers speaking of other things, or what they were reading, or attempting to sleep
They had not noticed the magic
The young man put his head to one side, closed his eyes, and pretended to sleep
There was nothing else to do
Just to listen to the sound of the engine, the sound of the tires in the snow