I thought I saw a mirage:
What is a red double-decker bus doing in this little German village?
On my way to school, it passed me by slowly. There was a middle-aged woman sitting in the driver’s seat. She looked around like she was searching for the way. Her black hair stood up like antennae and I could not make out if that was intended or just the lack of care.
A skinny boy my age stood beside her speaking to her what looked like he was encouraging her. They stopped and a girl a little older than me came downstairs. What were they doing here? A private school bus “delivery”?
I had no time tough to wait around and wonder. My light brown leather satchel felt heavy on my right side. I hold it up with my hands and walked on. The others were already in the schoolyard. I could see them up the road standing in groups pointing towards the bus.
It had started to move again. I could see the anxiety on the woman’s face. I could also see the others point towards the right side where the little sweet shop is. A street parted school and shop and it looked to me like the bus a little further ahead of me now was turning that way.
How will she make it? The crossing was tiny and there was a huge birch tree on my side of the road. It’s branches brushed along the bus near breaking point. The owner of the garage under the birch tree came running out, pointing furiously at the woman in the bus and the birch.
Oh, good she made it, but the bus stopped again standing in front of the sweet shop. I heard gunshots. What the…
I ran up the street like a mad girl. The others gathered on the little grass slope beside the schoolyard which ran down towards the street. Shouting. Sirens. The garage owner ran over the street. When I arrived and ran around the corner, I nearly bumped into him.
I looked around him and saw the black haired woman leaning over the boy who looked like a younger male version of herself. She had her hands on her side which were soaked in blood. I realised there was blood everywhere. The girl had the boys head in her lap. She was crying. I heard her sob:” Don’t go. Johannes, please don’t go!”
But the woman stroked her head, then leaned down to the boy and said: “Son let’s go and meet a great friend!”
Then she dropped beside him lifeless.
Fellow Bloggers posting stories:
Fiction Favourites: WEDNESDAY STORY DAY – AKA – HUMP DAY
Some short stories to read:
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Best British Short Stories 2017 by Nicholas Royle
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