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Waiting for the bus

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Waiting for the bus It was about 8 o'clock in the evening, it was been raining for a very long time; the atmosphere around is so miserable; the air is so heavy as if it's filled with lead and the surroundings are dull and lifeless as if it was the darkest corner on earth. A middle aged man with tattoos all over his body smoking a cigar is being interviewed by a female doctor in a psychiatric hospital. While preparing the apparatus, the young lady tells him about the procedure:" This conversation will be recorded, as many others before it, do you understand Peter? Would you like to tell me about your dreams?" In this depressing room, with dull lights, you can only see the still outline of the two people, as if they are mysterious statues sat there staring at each other. ...read more.


These were the first few days it has been like this. It was like a new start for Peter; the weather was divine and precious, he could not get enough of it, it seemed like it gave him power and superiority over every one else. As the days grew longer, so did the conversations the psychiatrist and the man had. It was an ordinary day and as usual Peter was having a 5 o'clock interview with his psychiatric specialist. Every interview the crazy man has attended, he would always start from the beginning. This conversation appeared very interesting to the doctor, as this time the man was happy to talk about his dreams, although when he reached to the point where he left off last time, his smile contracted to it's smallest dimension, his face became the most distressed it has ever been. ...read more.


After half realizing what happened she pushed me out of the way and kneeled in front of the old lady's body, desperately trying to help. After a few minutes my mother managed to get my grandmother's body onto the bus to take her to the hospital. I was completely ignored. I saw as the passengers on the bus gathered around the old lady, trying to do what they can. I saw the bus driver running towards the front to drive the bus to the hospital. I wanted to get on but I couldn't move I was still in shock; the bus drove off without me. Again I was left in the dark and rainy street; I stood there watching them leave as if that was the last bus to heaven, to warmth and comfort." The room was motionless; you could hear nothing except for the birds singing before they go to sleep. Peter spoke again:" This really happened". ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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