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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1498911-Different-Paths
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1498911
My Nov 25th Daily Flash Fiction entry - revised somewhat
I stayed out of this neighborhood at night as a rule, but I worked late tonight. The project, and my promotion, depended on it. A co-worker was mugged out here last week. But, this project could land me a coveted project manager position with the firm if I could pull it off. The hours were worth it, but the walk wasn’t.

“Only four more blocks,” I muttered into my scarf, trying to look confident. The cold wind whipped, burning my forehead and ears. If I was lucky, I would make it to the bus stop with perfect timing. No waiting. On cold nights, most of the homeless were huddled back in the alleys with their garbage can fires. I jumped as the wind blew a cardboard box across the street. A plastic bag danced crazily under a dim streetlight. As I approached, a shaggy man in dirty clothes stopped me. The stench of a wet dog mixed with a dumpster left open on a hot summer day hit me with suck force I coughed and plunged my nose deeper into my scarf.

“Spare a dollar?”

“No. Sorry.” I tried to push past him. He blocked me. “Go away.”

“Please, Ma’am?” His type used the money for cheap booze, but I knew he wouldn’t let me by. I saw the bus, but he was between it and me. Panic started to set in. The bus would not wait, not in this neighborhood. I pulled a bill out, not caring the denomination, and slapped it into his dirt and grease-stained glove.

“A twenty? God Bless you, Ma’am”

I didn’t care about the money. I wanted to catch that bus and get out of this neighborhood. Our eyes met briefly. I felt I knew him. I recognized his eyes. Shaking off the feeling, I ran to the bus, leaping up the steps to safety.

As the bus pulled away it hit me. I hadn’t seen Doug since graduation. Childhood friends, we dated through high school. I went on to business school. He had a football scholarship. He should have written his own ticket to fame and fortune. How did this happen to him? I ran and peered through the grimy back window of the bus. He blew me a kiss and flashed that wonderful smile. I knew he remembered me, too.

Word Count: 388
© Copyright 2008 Beck Firing back up! (write2b at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1498911-Different-Paths