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The Last Bus on Marrow Street
dramaEveryone6 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep
I keep driving. Just another shift. One of seven. She's fine. Probably. The route won't change. My route. Sleet gets heavier. Like it's chasing the bus.
I can't stop checking the mirror. The road behind me is dark. Sleet. Empty. But I keep checking. Why do I keep checking? Was she even real?
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A possible continuation
I see her. In the mirror. Behind the bus. Running. Still in the red coat. Soaked. How is she running if I already passed her blocks ago? I look again. Nothing. Just sleet.
TE
Tomas Eklund
7 votes · future 1 of 1