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The Commute

The Commute The Morning Commute left unspoken

By Elizabeth ButlerPublished about 9 hours ago 3 min read
The Commute
Photo by Tristan Gevaux on Unsplash

It was a miserable day. It had been a miserable for a month and Peggy, the old doddery woman, waited at the bus stop in the pouring rain.

Raincoat zipped up, umbrella held tightly, Peggy waited for the bus to come. There were the usuals that hovered, she however sat on the cold metal bench.

Through the stormy clouds, the bus windows burst through. Like always, the bus pulled up outside the station and waited for everyone to get onboard.

Peggy was slower than she used to be, but she managed with her walking stick. She pulled herself up and stumbled towards a free seat near a window, it wasn’t as though she could see much anyway, as they were all steamed up.

Peggy unzipped her coat a little and shook her umbrella, tapping the excess water on the side of the seat, while people clambered onboard. A regular young man who sat a few rows behind, An elderly woman, like Peggy, took her seat at the front, followed by two-woman mid conversation, who sat away from each other.

The bus set off on its journey. Peggy rubbed the condensation from her side of the window and peered out.

They continued their bus journey without another word, so quiet that the early bird chorus sang loudly, even though the birds were drenched. The driver themselves, drove with two hands on the wheel, eyes focused on the road in front.

Ahead, a lone young man stood waiting at the next bus stop, shivering, holding his phone. The bus came to a halt and he hopped straight on and paid. Walking past everyone, he made sure to glance at them. Each of them turned their backs on him and looked towards the windows.

He sat by Peggy. Her umbrella had been propped up against the seat. The lad, exchanged looks, Peggy tutted, the rest of the bus, including the driver glared at him and tutted also.

He sat right beside Peggy, so close she could smell his minty breath. She turned her back to him, staring out at the window she’d wiped. The lad held his phone out and started clicking away. His thumbs were working overtime, typing up and down. The silence had ceased. All anyone could hear was the constant clicking from the young man’s fingers against his phone screen.

Altogether, everyone including Peggy next to him, turned around, the bus driver even looked, using his rear - view mirror, and glared.

He put his phone to his left ear, the ear closest to Peggy’s face.

“Yeah, hiya, just on the bus now, will only be a few minutes.”

His voice was like nails down a chalk board. The glares everyone gave the young man had gone from annoyance to anger.

This young man spread his legs out wide. Peggy, a small woman, clung to her umbrella and coat. She couldn’t enjoy the vista this morning, even if it was stormy. Squashed where she sat, Peggy caught the attention of the other passengers. The bus driver, seen looking at him in the mirror, didn’t drive as well as he usually did.

Their journey became turbulent, the more the young man spoke out loud, laughing and spitting down the microphone. Each word that left his mouth made the driver swerve. Each little bump of the road, normally expertly avoided, made everyone jump in their seats.

He was oblivious.

Peggy could feel herself getting nauseous. Holding her umbrella out in front of her provided little to no comfort. She scowled more than she had ever scowled before. The others joined in, though the driver had gotten so rattled, he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. It was a blessing no cars were on the road this early in the morning in such bad weather.

The sudden stop made the young man hang up his call, look around him and stand up from his seat.

“Is this my stop?”

Nobody answered, just watched him, judging.

He had the audacity to smile at everyone when he made his way towards the front of the bus, where he thanked the driver and left.

The driver himself looked rattled by this point. His tie askew, his face pale as a sheet, but the lad was gone.

They didn’t celebrate his departure. They watched him walk down the road in the pouring rain, figuring out where he was meant to go. They all spent the rest of their morning journey in complete silence. Peggy even moved her umbrella, popping it onto the chair next to her.

MysteryShort Story

About the Creator

Elizabeth Butler

Elizabeth Butler has a masters in Creative Writing University .She has published anthology, Turning the Tide was a collaboration. She has published a short children's story and published a book of poetry through Bookleaf Publishing.

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