Here is a quick entry I worked up for the #TuesFlashFicTrain at Trial and Tribulations of Writing blog. She has a weekly fiction contest where you add to an existing and on-going story. Here is my take on where it could go. Enjoy.
Rita hated public transportation. She hated the way she slid, ever so slightly on the cracked plastic seats as the bus took a slow wide turn. She grabbed the cold metal bar which served as an arm rest to steady herself. A thick film of other people’s grime covered the bar. Her slender fingers could feel the dirt of a thousand hands that touched the same place
Instantly repulsed she withdrew her hand. The revulsion on her face was too evident as she stared at her open palm. She could not, and refused to hide her dismay. Still staring at her hand she touched her fingertips together, watching as they momentarily stuck together.
A successful meeting and a few celebratory drinks with Laura had started her day. Now, a simple bus ride across town threatened to destroy it. The stuffiness in her head made the ride even more traumatic. Dismayed and disgusted, she laid her head back on the faded blue seat and closed her eyes.
“What’s da matta dearie?” The scratchy voice broke her from her momentary peace. “Little girl too damn good to ride da bus with us normal folk?” The old lady’s breath reeked of stale cigarettes and cheap wine.
Rita’s eyes flew open and her head popped up from where she was resting. Her wide eyes narrowed as she glared at the old woman. Her heart pounded and her head grew hot with fury.
“I cannot even close my eyes without someone ruining it,” she angrily said to herself.
The old woman mockingly grinned at her.
“Is it normal to not bathe daily?” Rita spat at the woman. “Is it normal to insult perfect strangers?” She suddenly felt powerful as the words came from a place inside her she keeps buried. A place that reminds her of her past.
The old woman drew back in shock. “I…”
“You nothing!” Rita interrupted. “I only wanted to rest for a few moments, but you just had to say something. You just had to accuse me of thinking I am better than you.”
Rita was standing now. Others on the bus were turning to look at her. In this moment she didn’t care. She was the center of attention. No one would walk on her today. Too many times have too many people taken advantage of her. Not today. Not ever again.