He had it coming

The cloud of smoke hung in the air for a few moments before dissipating in the slight breeze. An overly-health conscious girl glared at its source before returning to scanning the road for any sign of the overdue bus. Attractive, albeit a tad tight-arsed, mused the cigarette-wielding Oscar Delahunty. Just the sort he would like to put over his knee and administer a few short slaps to. He grinned to himself. Yes, he would show her a time she would not forget. Not necessarily a ‘good’ time, but a memorable experience nonetheless. She wouldn’t give a fuck about passive smoking then, that’s for certain.

Oscar checked his watch once more. 11:47. Fucking Dublin Bus and their incessant, predictable unreliability. This one was somehow fifteen minutes late, even though it allegedly set off at half past the hour and should only take a few minutes to make this stop. He knew he should have driven to the rendezvous, but he didn’t want to risk it – there were still a mess of bloodstains all over the passenger’s seat and windscreen. He’d been meaning to clean it up, but he liked the ‘Don’t fuck with me’ message it conveyed. Oscar enjoyed taking potential business associates into the garage and showing them exactly how he dealt with those who attempted to cross him. A picture is worth a thousand words, after all.

Finally, the number 40 chugged around the corner and approached the stop. Ah, here it is. About fucking time too. He took out his wallet and, while fiddling for the correct change, failed to notice the stern-faced girl surreptitiously remove a switchblade from her purse and pad softly behind him. It was such a shock when he felt the blinding pain in the rear of his lower abdomen that he barely reacted with anything more than an expression of mute bemusement. She eased him gently to the ground and, with a slight smile, turned to flag down the bus. Hopping daintily on with carefree abandon, she placed her ticket against the reader and winked at the driver; “Musta had a liquid lunch, dangerous in this weather, sure it’s easy enough to pass out in that heat as it is!”

The driver nodded impassively. Cute girl, he thought. Not really his type though – he preferred tougher women. He pulled out from the stop and accelerated away, leaving the huddled body lying, ignored and unattended, in the resting place of the bus shelter.

Solidarity brothers & sisters…★

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About Seba Roux

Gooner, Socialist, Historian, Slacker. That's pretty much all you need to know.
This entry was posted in Short Stories and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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