Running for the bus

The most inelegant and undignified act that is befallen upon mankind. There is no way to do this with any form of grace or guile. Indecision and confusion consume you as you attempt to gauge whether or not you can make it.

 

With one arm flailing and the other clutching onto you belongings you scurry like an apprehensive rat. You aim to attract the driver's attention yet ironically your hoping not to draw attention to yourself.

 

School children are laughing and pointing, old ladies are wishing you well.
You're close, you quicken your stride but the chance of failure is ever looming.
The driver has indicated to pull away, You bang on the side of the bus in a last ditch attempt to hold him up.

 

He had seen you, he had watched you in the mirror, he had seen your coat flapping in the wind like a less than superhero's cape. He had timed it to perfection, this is his sport, it amuses him on a monotonous day.

 

As you reach the doors they close suddenly and the driver, with his eyes front and his head held high drives away. Leaving you there; a panting, sweaty mess.

 

 

David, TCC