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giancaseywords

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Storytelling Services by Giancasey

Storytelling Services by GiancaseyStorytelling Services by Giancasey

The Thread

Chapter 3

The Bus Driver…


How did I get here, he thinks as he wakes on a strange couch

He sits up, head in hands

Mouth is dry with bourbons stench

His head is pounding.

"How are you brother" an unfamiliar voice politely says.

Looking around this meager room, he says,

"Feel like shit" 

Nodding, the stranger says. "I'll bet"

" I found you in the curb last night. Thought you could use a safe place to crash."


jt said thanx, got up and walked out the door.

Not knowing he would think about the kindness this stranger gave,

To such a pathetic soul, for the rest of his life.


Bits of memory of the night before emerging in random order,

Looking down the street, not know where he is

He recalls shooting pool last night at "The Hustle"

A dive two blocks up from his flat.


Rubbing his eyes, jt hears that polite voice say  "you’re on 

Michigan street, there's a bus stop eight blocks south. It runs every hour during peak times".

"Thanx again man", he mumbles.

"No worries brother" the stranger says as he walks back in his house and closes the door.

His face never to be remembered.


On the way to the bus stop he happens by a bar, stops for a minute, turns and walks in.

Ordering a bourbon with water back, head in his hands again, he lifts his head for a moment, to nod to the barkeep 

Getting a casual nod back. 

Without words they acknowledge the situation as if they knew each other for years.


Used scratch off tickets liter the bar

Luck again refuses to join him for a drink

Hours pass as the bar begins to fill

Too many people and too loud, jt leaves a fin and walks out


"I can't keep doing this", he says aloud looking up at the darkening sky

And begins to walk, stopping once to puke on a bush.

He gets to the bus stop, and sits, head in hands again

elbows teetering on his knees.

He nods off only to awake to a somewhat familiar voice say..

"you coming?"


The strings of her heart beacons pulling him near

Feeling compelled losing all fear

Seems like a whisper lasting all day

Her voice in his ear a siren some say


Next stop...


The Busdriver

Waiting

Another Rainy day

next stop


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