I’m actually a bus driver from Vancouver, BC with aspirations to being a fiction writer. While I pull away from a stop or throw a drunk off the back of my bus the only thing that keeps me going is a strange little story in the back of my mind. It’s also been fun to try to write from different points of view.
   Well anyway here’s today’s short-short story….

The Bus with No Number

   A few guests at the wedding had gone from drunk to worse and were now squeezing onto a westbound bus. Heath held tightly onto the lucky bouquet that his girlfriend had caught and then almost vomited upon. Ashes from the cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth occasionally snowed upon the blue and red petals.  Heath and Samantha pushed through the stand of people to the back of the bus where they sat down on two surprisingly empty seats.
    “Throw it. Let me catch it again.”
     Heath set it down on Samantha’s lap.
     A waft of fetid booze stumbled across their faces and a gnarly nose emerged from between two buts.
    “Oh yeah a wedding is fun, isn’t it ? Oh I love weddings.” Seated on the other side of the bus, he still managed to stretch his legs or neck or something in order to ooze his way through the people standing in the aisle. “It was such much fun I did it four times in my life.” 
    Samantha and Heath smiled fading smiles.
    “Oh yeah, I’ve been around the block a couple times. The strangest thing that happened to me though…” and he leaned in even closer as if his neck were made of rubber,” was getting on a bus with no number.”
    The bus lurched to a stop and the standing passengers rippled movements from the front.
    “I was in a hurry to get to work and none of the buses were stopping but suddenly this one guy – packed to the rafters with people mind you– stopped right in front of me. The doors opened and the driver looked at me. It was strange. I’d never seen a bus with no numbers at the front or side. There wasn’t even a space for there to be bus number but like I said I was in a hurry so I jumped on it. Put the change in and off we went.”
    Samantha and Heath stared at him out of politeness.
    “Problem was the bus never stopped. We drove for days and days along the same stinking route.  Once in a while somebody would pull the dinger to request a stop but we just whizzed by it. Somebody would shout, “That’s my stop,” people would chuckle and that would be the end of it.”
     His eyes were heavily hooded with flesh but the rest of his face was gaunt. 
     “On the fourth or fifth day, I was getting so thirsty and hungry I thought I was going to die. Everybody else was doing fine but not me. Oh that was the hardest time in my life. Worse than my second marriage. So at a red light I escaped through an emergency window. Yeah they work.”
    Samantha and Heath nodded their understanding.
    “The emergency escape windows work,” he whispered as he receded back between what appeared to be a pair of different bums. 
     Samantha and Heath sat in silence.