Tuesday, 19 July 2016

Story #329 - Girl with the missing shoe

It's nighttime. Several minutes past time. My eyes are about to close. They've been open for 36 hours without so much as a wink. I don't know how I managed, but I did, and when I get home, I reckon I won't be able to take off my clothes. Maybe I won't make it to the bed, either.
Walking down the road, I reach the bus stop and see one of the buses stopped, with a "Not in Service" thing on it.
'That's peculiar,' I think as this is an inter-cities one; they rarely have something like that on.
As I walk on by, passing the transport vehicle, I notice the driver on the phone, waiting for the other person to answer, and across from him, in the open door, a girl, smoking with her shivering hand.
'It's not cold.' Then I look down. One of her shoes is missing. Her body shakes for a cool five seconds before going back to normal. Her olive skin has a shade of white to it. Sweat has covered her face and belly.
"It's too hot," she says as she puffs the last whiff of tobacco and throws it on the cold ground.
I'd like to ask her what's the matter, but I know she won't answer. Her brain's too frazzled by what she suffered.
I go past to wait for my bus.

No comments:

Post a Comment