Rachael pulled the collar of her coat up closer to her ears. The wind howled about her as she stood waiting for the city bus. She hated this part. It caused her to miss Steve and what little they’d had together. The six month relationship had taken a lot out of her and had caused her far too much sacrifice. He’d totaled her car and her bank account. She shook her head, Why do I miss him? Why am I so willing to open my heart to the wrong people?
The sound and smell of the bus pushed the thoughts from her head. She waited for the doors to open and boarded the bus. She kept her eyes planted on the driver’s hands as he punched a hole in her transfer. Then she made the awkward journey to the middle of the bus. She took a seat close to the middle doors.
It took everything within her to just look straight ahead and not make eye contact with anyone, stalkers were too easy to attract in her opinion.
>”Um, excuse me, could you skootch over so I can sit here?”
>Rachael looked in the direction of the voice. Its owner was an elderly woman holding a cane and a large shopping bag. She wore a coat that was too small for and the sweater underneath poked through the straining button holes of the coat. “Speak up hun, I ain’t gettin’ no younger!” The old woman snapped at her.
Rachael stared at her and shook her head, “My stop is up next”. Rachael said trying to insert some firmness into her tone.
The old woman grinned a wide almost toothless grin, “Well, mine, too! So skootch over!”
Rachael pulled her purse closer to her body and shook her head. “If you’ll step back, I’ll just stand up.”
The old woman didn’t budge. She placed one hand on the back of the seat and the other on her hip. “Skootch!” she said firmly to Rachael. “Mz Allen ain’t got no time fo ignorant, hun!” The old woman glared at Rachael and at the teenagers who’d started to giggle at the situation.
Rachael reached up and signaled the driver to stop the bus. The old woman laughed heartily and moved toward the back of the bus.
Rachael felt anger rise up her back. She looked in the direction of the old woman, who was now settled into the backseat of the bus. She smiled at Rachael and then defiantly raised her middle finger, in an all too familiar salute of the rude.
Rachael turned her head quickly, pretending not to notice the rude gesture. What had happened to the sweet old ladies? The ones you want to help or give up your seat for; Rachael closed her eyes for a moment to try and erase the thoughts from her head. It would seem that Steve had done more damage to her world in six months than she’d have ever thought possible. His presence in her life had caused her to feel helpless in every area of her life.
Rachael closed her eyes in an effort to shut down the thoughts in her head. Why had she given her heart so willingly to him? Why had she, even in a passive way, given up her seat to that gross old woman? When am I going to grow a set of balls and just stand up for me?
Well mostly, inspiration happens any where
From the Desk of an Author 