A drizzling, gray sky with a singular opening for a ray of light in the clouds. A bus stop, recently drenched, surrounded by one large puddling. The clouds reflect, moving slowly, rippled gently in the wind.
Across the street, rolling grass, settled by raindrops. The occasional car upsets the water, spattering the glass of the tiny shelter. Inside a girl sits waiting for her bus, smoking a cigarette. A man sits a little ways from her. He is very awkward at acting cool but it’s obvious by his furtive looks of lustful interest that he has succumbed to male libido. She doesn’t help, brushing her bare legs against one another, and the occasional glances seem to beckon him, though she mostly tries to ignore his existence. A older woman walks up, hanging up her cell phone in frustration. She huddles in, walking nervously around the man’s side, fidgeting with her phone. She is not as thin or attractive and obscures his view. He is disgusted by her, but she is his only source of money.
“Carl” she snaps, “Where’s our ride?” She snaps the phone open and closed. Snap, snap, snap.
“What do I know?”
“Dammit, you called Moreen, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t call nobody.”
“Shit, like hell you didn’t.”
“You’re the one with the phone!”
“Shut up.”
The girl puffs on her cigarette, she can’t be more than sixteen.
“Why didn’t you call mom?” The fat woman asks. He face is almost as red as her hair, scarred with pimpling.
“What do I know?”
“You know I hate her.”
“Fucking pissed me off.”
The rain starts to pick up.
“She better not be coming.” The sun is starting to set, and a cold wind reaches them, the all shiver nearly in tandem. The woman curses, the man shrugs it off, and the girl pulls her jacket up. It belongs to her so-called boyfriend. The guy she’s sleeping with, anyway. He used to buy her flowers and nice things. And when they kissed it was all magic. She doesn’t care any longer. Now it’s all sex. She continues smoking. And it drifts to the other two as the breeze settles.
“What did he say?” The man actually seems interested for a moment.
“Shit.” She doesn’t care to answer. His little sister, his ugly little sister. He would’ve moved away years ago and never had to see her again had he not needed money. He tried. He needed money. He hates that. Wants to move to some tropical island where they don’t need money. He wouldn’t need much. Just him and twenty beautiful women. That’s what they call a dream.
His sister just always wanted a pony. Now she’s lower management at an accounting firm. Go figure.
“Here she is.” A car pulls up, they get in and pull away, disrupting the puddle as they go.
The girl throws he spent cigarette in the water, lights another one, and closes her eyes.


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