You've waited for it...

and it's here. Well, I've waited for it at least. FICTION FRIDAY!

This week we didn't do as many writing exercises in class, at least none that are share worthy. However, I did get a fabulous idea while I was waiting for the bus the other night. I guess I'm one of those "write what you know" kind of writers. I definitely exaggerated the experience in my story but that doesn't matter. Fiction can be made up and full of lies - those lies have to be believable though.

This class has opened up my writing senses and it's only been four weeks. This semester will really shape me as a writer. I'm loving it. I wouldn't mind getting paid to create short stories for the rest of my life. Alas, that only happens to a few writers. Most writers have a primary job and write on the side. Either would be fulfilling.

I won't keep you waiting any longer. So, here is my story. The first part at least.

Jordan got off late that night. She walked a block from her work to the bus stop. The bus wouldn’t come for a half hour. She sat on the cold, metal bench that was in the small bus shelter. It was big enough for about 3 people, comfortably. She called her boyfriend while she waited. She got his voicemail so she hung up and redialed.

“Hello,” he said as he inhaled shallowly and then quickly exhaled.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Jordan asked.          

“I just ran up the stairs to answer my phone,” he said. “Are you on break?”

“No. I just got off. There weren’t many dishes to do tonight.”

While the conversation continued on about their day, their plans for the night and what they were going to do over the coming weekend, a man wearing a black Columbia fleece that was about two sizes too big for him came into the bus shelter. He checked the schedule, nodded his head and walked down the block towards the gas station. The bus wasn’t due for sixteen minutes.

“Hope the bus is running early,” Jordan said.

“Why? It’s not like you’re planning on doing much,” Isaac said. “You were just going to watch TV and fall asleep anyways.”

“There was a man,” Jordan whispered.

“There are always men Jordan,” Isaac said. “It’s kind of necessary to procreate.”

“I know that,” she said. “It’s just, well, he, I don’t know. I’m paranoid.”

Jordan looked down the block and saw the man in the black fleece walk out of the gas station. He was dragging his left foot. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up immediately. Her gut twisted and did a somersault. He was walking back towards the bus stop.

“The bus there yet hon?”

“No but that guy is walking this way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Usually his promises were reassuring. She had believed his promises for the last four years. He always knew what to say to clear her mind. Tonight was different. She was still worried. She curled her toes in her shoes and made a fist with her hand she had in her coat pocket. The bus wasn’t due for seven minutes.

“Were you busy with something before I called?” Jordan asked.

“No. I’d just gotten home from class,” he said. “Is that guy there?”