The chilly, early October air rushes down around you as you head for the bus stop on your way to work. It’s late, late enough that you’re lucky the bus that goes by the cafe is still running.
Although…it only comes by every half hour. That means you’re stuck huddling on the hard little bench beside the bus stop sign, wishing it was the kind with an enclosure around it.
At least it’s not raining.
So there’s that.
You glance down the dark, deserted road, willing the bus to hurry up.
It does not.
11pm Sunday night isn’t exactly prime commute hours. Apparently. And at times like this, you often wonder why your boss keeps the cafe open at all hours, anyhow.
Some nights, you barely see two or three customers all shift.
There’s got to be a better use of her resources, but you still get paid, so hey.
Speaking of better ways to do things, there’s a pair of those share-scooters abandoned on the sidewalk a few dozen yards away, blocking the path for anyone going by.
Maybe you should move them.
But if you get up, surely that’s when the bus will arrive.
So you sit there. Waiting. Feeling a tiny bit guilty for not moving the scooters. What if someone comes by in a wheelchair and can’t get past?
But…but it’s not like you’re the one who left them there.
Sighing, you try to ignore your conscience, hoping the bus will be along soon.
Everything feels so strangely mundane without Ziros around. It’s been an oddly uneventful day.
Although…you should probably be glad about that. You could use a little more dullness in your life after all the crazy adventures you’ve had lately, but you still miss Ziros.
It’s only been a few days since he left, but it feels like an eternity. All you’ve done is work and go home and sit around hoping he will reappear.
Corrine has been busy, too, so there’s not been much to keep your mind off his absence.
Five more minutes pass, and your bus still hasn’t arrived.
You keep glancing back over at the two scooters parked side-by-side blocking the middle of the walkway.
Maybe you should get up and do something about them, after all. With one last glance back down the road to make sure you won’t miss your bus, you hurry and move the first scooter over to the edge of the sidewalk. Immediately, it starts beeping loudly, like it’s trying to warn you not to steal it.
“Quiet,” you will the scooter, and magically—yes, literally—it stops.
Oh.
Well, that’s handy.
“See?” you ask its brethren, willing it to shush as it, too, begins to siren at you. “I’m not stealing you, I’m just moving you.”
Just as you set the second scooter out of the way of pedestrians, you hear the familiar rumble of the bus lumbering up the quiet street.
Cursing under your breath, you wave at the driver, rushing back to your stop.
Fortunately, the driver sees you just in time, pulling the bus to a squealing halt at the curb.
As it pulls away with you aboard, you swear you catch a glimpse of a dark shadow looming against the edge of a nearby building across the street from where you’d been standing.
