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Bus Story: Missing the Point

January 11, 2016

She can’t quite focus. There is a constant, insistent sound that is distracting. It is just loud enough to be annoying and soft enough to be unintelligible. Looking at her surroundings again, she takes stock of her situation. She, and about 40 others, are inside a conveyance, of a sort. The seating appears to be devised for maximum capacity and efficiency rather than comfort for long-term travel. She heard someone name it earlier, if she could only remember. The damn buzzing in her head seems to be increasing. A “bus”, she remembers suddenly! That is the name of the transport she’s riding in. But why? Why, by all she holds dear, is she on this bouncing, jolting rolling thing?  With one great lurch of the bus, she bumps her head, very slightly, on the back of the seat and the sound in her head suddenly becomes clear. “Rada, can you hear us?! Rada, please respond. Spacial displacement telemetry is offline and we can’t find you. Rada? Please acknowledge.”

And then she remembers.

She remembers the urgency of the mission. She remembers the burden she carries. She remembers that the survival of her entire world hinges now upon her completing her tasks. And she remembers that this planet, Earth, is a place of wonders and terrors and that she must be strong, vigilant, and, above all, discreet. As the bus arrives downtown, Rada stands, marveling at the notion of being bipedal, and steps into the throng and towards her destination. She can see it, pointing high into the sky to the north of her. The Space Needle. If the people here only knew the truth, the irony of the name would bring this city to a screeching halt.

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From → Bus Stories

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