I grab his head and smash it against the bus’s window.
It doesn’t crack, the window I mean, his nose burst open like a pomegranate.
His eyes water, his lips take the shape of impotence.
I grab his head again, he tries to bat me off, but my superior strength and speed squandered his weak attempt.
SMASH! chards of glass tumble down, I’m sure a piece protrudes from under his eye-lid.
Black silence. Unconscious. Ahhh… rest -for him and me.
________ I OPEN MY EYES ________
The AC freezes the bus as it goes from dead empty street to derelict stop. He’s too close now. I can smell his breath on me. I can taste the smell of fresh mint and mouldy shirt. The bus is empty, and it’s the last one for the night. I sit still, motionless, breathless, I wish heartless. He touches my hand, I dare not move it. He slowly and lightly moves his hand up my arm, across the fold in my elbow, and up to my shoulder. His fingers rest slightly on my collar bone -the weight of a thousand tanks on each finger. He’s a large corpulent man; tears roll down my face.
He peels a tear off my cheek sucks his finger:
The bus stops, doors open and with every inch of strength in me, I dart through the closing door. My will was stronger than him, this time.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to take that same bus again.