Gwendolyn sat on the bus too exhausted to think, or even to notice that the bus hadn’t moved for a while. This wasn’t just normal traffic. She trembled as waves of fear and anxiety overtook her. About a half hour ago, the older woman sitting next to her had wordlessly taken her hand, and Gwen had tried to smile at her. “At times like these…” she thought but couldn’t remember how the rest of it went.

The bus driver spoke into his microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen. It looks like we are not going anywhere. My dispatcher suggests that everyone leave the bus and walk north up to Central Park. The park should be safer.” The doors opened and people moved to leave, some muttering, others cursing, a few crying.

Gwen could hardly rise. She had walked at least 5 miles, first through rubble and endless dust, and then through crowded streets filled with people rushing in all directions. Cell phones weren’t working, and she knew Robert must be frantic.

On the street she breathed in the air of a gorgeous September day, and tried to think about the cabin. But the cabin was on another planet today. Today was all about terror and flight.

It wasn’t that far to the park. When she got there, she sat on a bench and watched hundreds of others march past her – a horde of briefcase-carrying, high-heeled, suited refugees from death and destruction.

That Friday, Robert rented a car and they drove to the cabin. As soon as they arrived, she wrapped herself in her favorite scarf, and walked up the hill to her spot. She sat there looking at the mountains, waiting for Robert to join her.  She would tell him everything, and they would begin to heal.

Submitted: June 12, 2021

© Copyright 2023 sygarte. All rights reserved.

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Great Story Writing Contest You Got There, Sygarte, thanks!!

Sat, June 12th, 2021 10:40pm


Thanks for your comment

Sat, June 12th, 2021 4:09pm

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