Bus Stop

As I go through the Couch to 80k Writing Bootcamp, one of the prompts is to write a short scene in third person, where the character is waiting for someone or something, then alternate sentence by sentence between low and high detail. The following is my attempt; I thought it was worth sharing.

She shifted from one foot to the other, her long, dark tendrils swaying in stark contrast against her bright red long jacket. She looked over at the bench full of other people waiting for the bus, protected a bit from the cold by the bus shelter and the warm bodies nearby. One man stood up, a knotty grey beard speckled with white; his pale skin wrapped in tattered layers of green and beige clothing. A woman next to him wrinkled her nose as he stood, looking at him with disgust.

Scarlet, her bright red lips pursed as her dark eyes burned into the blonde woman’s peripheral vision, made no effort to hide her disdain. She wrapped her arms around herself as she stared. It was freezing cold outside of the shelter, with the icy wind and the occasional bit of mist that sprinkled from the grey skies. Unable to lock eyes with the woman, she finally looked away to the street. “Wonder when that bus will get here?” she thought to herself as she lifted her delicate french-manicured hand and glanced at her shiny gold watch. It was already 10 minutes late, and she wondered if it would ever show up.

Just when she was considering other travel options, the big, black and orange bus began to make its way down the wet, rainy street, kicking up water to the sidewalk as it came towards the bus shelter. As it slowed, the bus driver looked at the people waiting, to see if they were waiting for his bus. The blonde woman noticed this and made eye contact with the driver, her mascara laden eyes closing as she shook her head at the bus driver and waved him off.

Taking the blonde woman as a spokesman for the group, he sped past the bus stop, leaving the group speechless as the big bus tires misted them with rain water.

“No!” Scarlet yelled, her leather glove clad hands waving at the bus as it sped off. “Idiot!” Scarlet yelled at the blonde woman, who just returned her stare, expressionless and unconcerned. Her blank look quickly turned to disgust as a huge, gooey glob of brown spit landed in her face, courtesy of the man with the grey beard.