Short Storys

"Last Stop" & "Red Light"

"Last Stop"

I hear a loud screech, making me take out one earbud of blasting music and realize the bus is here. As it comes to a complete stop in front of the little shelter, I taste the exhaust guzzling out of the old bus and into the -already unclean- air, as it tickles my throat, causing me to cough. The doors slowly open -leaving little room- for the multiple bodies to cram in all at once. They push and shove as if it would leave without them at any second, which was most likely true. Once entering, the feeling of unpleasant moisture slowly fills the air with an uncomfortable warmth. Before I could think too hard, luck was definitely on my side because all the seats were taken -great. Touching the cold metal as I wrapped my hand around the unsanitary pole trying not to guess who held it last. Fortunately, getting distracted by the window, I see the dark night sky being illuminated by its only source of light, the moon. Absolutely stunning. Forcing myself, I look away and see that it's the last stop and time to get off. The smell of crisp cool wind hits my nose and instantly drys my lips, as I'm once again lost in the music pounding through my head, when I suddenly shudder at the realization: I took the wrong bus. 

^written by: Eat-sleep-anime

"Red Light"

Eight. I have eight more minutes until she comes to pick me up. I phoned her half an hour ago after realizing I took the wrong bus. I felt terrible for making her worry when I could practically sense her tiredness from the phone. She just got home herself from a place where she gets overworked and underpaid being a secretary. It’s now 9:30 at night and I’m stuck in a shady a$$ alleyway, because of my own stupidity. As I wait it seems as though I can physically feel the weight of the polluted air. It doesn't help that this specific alley is apparently the city's designated smoking area. In the thirty minutes I’d been there at least forty different sketchy people have come to pay me and their pack of cigarettes a visit. Scrunching up my nose has become a habit to shield myself from the overpowering smell of cigarette smoke. It got extremely distasteful when a group of people came by and no matter what I did I couldn’t block the overwhelming smell. It got so awful I could even taste the ash as it fell to the hard cement. Grey seemed to be the only colour surrounding me, making me drive deeper into my already sh**ty mood. The only thing that kept me sane was a red light I spotted across the street and the music blasting in my ears soothing my nerves. Right as the song ‘Walls’ by Ruben ended I heard the familiar screech of my mom’s beat-up car pull up. Now the only thought running through my head was ‘she better have food’.