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Weekly Contest #309
The bus comes to a screeching halt in front of the faded blue bench. A hiss of air escapes, and the doors slide open.I shuffle my feet into my flats, which had begun to slide off when I leaned against the concrete wall. I swipe my bus pass with ease, smiling at the man with boorish features who always drives this route. His eyes flicker upwards, and his usual scowl disappears. Men always seem to relax around me. I think it’s because I’m young and pretty.Well, youngish. And less pretty and more bursting with sex appeal. It has its advantages ...
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