One Step Down, Two To Go...

Excellence Award in the 'Write Along 2018' competition

One stop down, two to go.

A blue sky. A cheery Summer’s day. People are happy. Life is good. Apparently…

I sigh with irritation as I realise I am late, again. I stand there in front of my shower-steamed mirror, my mouth filled to the brim with toothpaste and a towel wrapped firmly around my head. My fluffy Marvel themed dressing gown is too warm and the steam is making my cheeks flush an unattractive shade of pink. Spitting out the toothpaste I stare firmly at my reflection, willing it to get a move on.

“Come on, Tess!” You’re late!” I tell my reflection. She simply looks back with an exasperated expression so I leave her there and go get dressed.

I hate Summer. Working in an office means having to wear terribly warm clothes even when its 2000 degrees outside. Turning the corner to the bus stop, I see my bus pull away from the curb and drive steadily into traffic. Of bloody course. I honestly consider turning around and going back home, taking a ‘me’ day. My empty wallet begs to differ however, so I trudge to the dark green bus stop and flop down onto the empty bench.

“Hi there.”

I jump embarrassingly high and my heart beats fast with the unexpected movement. I look up in the direction of the voice and my heart beats just a little bit faster. Now this, is what people call an attractive young man.

“Is this seat taken?”

Asking permission to sit at a public bus stop is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. But, I go along with it, and motion to the empty bench space, hoping he won’t continue to make conversation.

“Nice weather, huh?”

Oh God, this is not what I need right now. Please go away. I nod, and give a tight smile as my only response.

“I prefer the rain, though. If I am to be perfectly honest.”

I sense an Englishman and consider walking the 5 miles to work. My silence doesn’t faze him though and I really wish I had the power to shut people up.

“I wish it were raining…” He sighs with a longing that seems almost superficial.
Then, the eeriest thing happens.

It starts to rain.
Lightly at first, then dark, heavy rainclouds cover the New York sky, startling pedestrians with the sudden drop in temperature. The man at the bus stop smirks. I frown with the uneasy feeling that something is going on, and I really want to know what.

A sucker for punishment, I ask, “What the hell, was that?”

“Oh so you can talk, interesting.”

“Don’t change the subject, how did you do that?”

The attractive man laughs, the laugh of a man who knows something and is enjoying keeping the information secret.

“Oh Tessa, you know exactly how. But I’ll tell you anyway.”

He leans in close, close enough that I notice his eyes are green.
He leans closer, aims his mouth towards my ear and whispers,

“Magic.”

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