Time ended. Just a few hours ago, I think. I'd just gotten out of work and was waiting at the bus stop with a few co-workers and some others when I heard a loud banging noise. Some of the women screamed a bit, although I'm not sure if it was from pain or fright. I, myself, had a sudden pain on my wrist, as though a match had been held to it. I grabbed and rubbed at the pain while observing those around me do the same, knocking the remnants of our watches to the ground.
The passengers on the bus we were waiting for arrived while we were still trying to comprehend what had happened. They came floating up, standing and sitting on nothing and then, as startled by this as we were, they fell to the ground. Backpacks, purses, and bodies formed a heap in the lane which did almost nothing to stop the bus when it finally arrived and neatly parked atop them. The doors promptly opened revealing the driver, the upper part of his body projecting out of the dashboard. He turned and mouthed something, maybe words of fright or a last guttural gasp before he died. I couldn't hear him over the screaming of the crushed, the noise of the engine, and the mayhem that was ensuing all around us.
We waited in the bus shelter for help, not unable to pull others to safety, but unwilling to risk being struck by the vehicles and debris that seemed to come in no pattern and without visible cause. We put out several small fires in pockets and purses caused by burning cellphones, but mostly we just waited. Help should have come already, it's far past time.
Goe, would like to be a better writer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
This is really good. Is there more to the story?
not to that one.
Post a Comment