Don’t Call Her, She Can’t Go

Hell isn’t other people, but the commute isn’t pleasant. Lisa has survived her job but forty minutes through darkness separate her from home. The lights are dim and Lisa won’t even frame to read the romance she’s been keeping in her bag. She knows how it ends, but it hasn’t yet and she’s a stickler for how things end.

The bus jumps with only slight dips in the road. Being that Lisa subscribes to the belief that the back is where it’s at, it’s made all the worse. She gets that sharp feeling that starts in her tail and ends in a warm squish in the base of her skull. It’s all so jarring that she can’t really keep a happy thought, despite being able to fly for short periods.

She’s feeling cold and sunken into the world, existing in a state between work and sleep. She doesn’t have any small talk available. She ran out years ago, back when Regan was in charge. The pause is pregnant between the four people huddled in the back of the bus. They are in the absence of a moment. In the nothing, Lisa is in her element.

The bus stops on the other side of a small bar. Lisa gets out and walks up to the gate. The grounds keeper is quite pleasant as he opens it and follows her in. She thinks of all the people she met today, how she wishes she could talk to them more. What’s coming is unavoidable and terrible. It happens every night.

As she comes to her neighbors The Askrens, she is reminded that she resides in a very quiet neighborhood. She thinks of laughing but remembers that such things are frowned upon here. She descends home and lays down. The grounds keeper closes the lid behind her but does not replace the soil. She has a weekend shift coming.

All in all, Lisa is glad that she never got life insurance.

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