Ficlets

Trudging over to the bus stop, I realized that the two quarters and a dime most definitely did not make up seventy five cents. Hmm, the driver usually didn’t check the amount you put in, so I’ll take my chances. Living my life on the edge by three nickels.
I laughed to myself but quickly stopped to make sure no one had heard.
The bench by the little crooked bus stop sign was dripping in defeat of the storm.
The bus seemed to be just as unexcited as I was to get here.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Twelve.
Headlights came into sight around the bend.
Sheets of rain flowed up like tidal waves by the touch of the wheels.
I hesitated to blink as it rolled before me.
It seemed as if everyone in passing cars was staring me down.
I slid my coins into the slot quickly so the driver didn’t see the amount of change I had to offer.
She handed me my transcript with a sour twang in her voice, “Thank you”.
There was one man riding the bus.
Of all the vacant seats, the one in front of the man seemed most interesting.