The Bus Stop



Welcome to Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge #05

There are five quotes given to you.

In italics

The challenge is not to describe any one quote.  You need to use all the five quotes a stitch a story. A short story which uses all of them. All the best!


I am confused at times. Should I sound? Should I echo? Should I stand here and wait for that bus to slide by my stop? Should I let it crunch it’s way down the gravel road towards the bridge and across to the town on the other side?

You need not answer all the questions! You can just laugh and laugh again at my inability to make a decision. I can stand here at this stop  with this woman, I think her name is Leah and she talks to much. She is talking to much right now. Maybe that’s why I can’t think, why I can’t decide what to do right now.

The bus is coming towards us, it always speeds up a little before it stops here. I wonder why, does the driver hope we will step off the curb and end up under his tires? Does he hope we will think he’s going to drive by us and we will walk away and he won’t have to stop? Does he think I’m a killer and can he see it? How could he? My brain is spinning out of control and I am very dizzy- Thoughts – they do what we don’t ask for!

What am I doing here today? Am I going to catch the bus and go to the Mall? To work? Will I ride to the Transit station and take another bus and end up on another corner tortured by indecision and frozen as solid as a corpse in full rigor mortis.

Which brings me back to this moment I am trapped in and all have learned for certain is,  I knew it! That I don’t know!

But I am resolute. I  will pluck  one idea, one thought  of my brain and act on it.

The bus is almost here. The woman, Leah looks concerned. She tells me the bus is coming, she puts her hand out and rests it on my arm.

I look into her eyes and see myself reflected in her eyes.

At times, we pretend to think on one and actually think everything else I realize.

Her hand slides down and  closes around my wrist and then one of my ideas burst from my brain and I swing my arm up and in the blink of an eye she was gone and under the wheels of the still moving bus .

It was, for a second, as if she had never been on that corner with me at all.

2 thoughts on “The Bus Stop

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