One Apple A Day #43
10 minutes.
Mike is standing on the bus even if it’s half empty. He keeps looking out of the windows, tapping with his right foot. Three stops. The short ride has never been so long. It looks like all the traffic converged here this morning. They are all against him. This is grandad’s job. He can imagine him looking down from the sky, with his finger pointed and that look saying “You’re going to hell”.
“Yeah, look. This is exactly where I’m going right now if this bus moves.”
5 minutes
He doesn’t wait for the doors to fully open. Mike is already running. Two blocks, turn left, the small alley on the left, at the end on the right.
1 minute
There’s no one in the empty space between the building. The shutter of the garage is open but he can see only an old car, half dismantle. No one around. No YKW. Mike doesn’t know his real name. He doesn’t need one. Everyone know who he is. Better. What he is. If you need something ask him. Who? You Know Who.
Mike is sweating. His heart pounding for the short run and not only for that. He’s scared. He can’t remember ever being so scared in his life. Not even that time the police caught him flying from that wild secret party in the old school’s gym.