It was a stormy night, and heavy rain came along with the rumble, the number 26 bus was late as usual, and after having the day I had I didn’t seem to give a damn. I had just been fired from my job. As the leafless tree above the bus stop offered no cover for the downpour that was ensuing, I thought a little water won’t hurt. I didn’t mind, I needed to be cleansed. The rain offered a cool, clean feel that beaded off my bald head, I felt at peace at that moment, the first time in a while.
I think the driver of the 26 is an alien, because it's definitely not human. I don't like riding that bus line but it's the cheapest way, and also the only way. Plus, this man goes where the coke flows. By which I mean Dave, he lives way out, another 25 minutes walk after I … Continue reading Driver, By Michael Murdoch
We’re different from the boisterous crowds of the weekends. The loud drunks commuting between parties, or the twitching addicts rocking and scratching at their skin, the entangled limbs of one night lovers clawing at each and wrapping around one another in the back. No, we’re the night bus sleepers, a different breed entirely.
“Don’t be concerned madam” I tell her while shoveling the coins mixed with tiny fragments of glass off the stairs and into my coat pockets. An honest days work for an honest days pay.
Most people think Xavier is crazy. Misinformed arrogant people often think he’s “retarded.” More understanding people simply describe him as “different,” and they certainly wouldn’t be wrong, he is indeed very different.
There is something primal inside me that leads me into a chase. Like when a rabbit darts in front of me as I walk through a park, I always get a little twitch. I have to stop myself from darting after it like a lunatic.
100 Word Story by Stephen Harris