Bus Instinct

The bus came. The same driver from the mainland. Hello Mrs. Joyce. Hello Charles. Lovely weather.. three days in a row, simply a miracle. He nodded and I walked down the aisle to an empty seat by the window. The grocery bag next to me and the book in my hand.. reading.. twenty minutes later, pulled the yellow bell and the bus slowly stopped at the stop… Picked up the bags.. opened the door.. down the steps… and then the white monster departed and left a tail of white grey smoke.

There was smoke in the air.. not from the bus. Something was burning, a house or maybe a garbage bin. Wood..and something sweet and bitter… my guts told me to run.. that feeling a female gets at that moment of epiphany, the feeling that you lost your pride and joy, a part of your soul, the trees in your garden, the roof of your house, the pillars of your temple.

 

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