Bus Stop

Michigan Ave Bus Stop“You waitin’ on the 615?” he asked.

“Yeah, ” she said, “It’s late.”

“Somethin’ wrong? You look down, girl.”

“Just got let go. Walked in and he say he don’t need me no more. Just like that. No notice or nothin’.”   she said

“That’s harsh.”

” Ain’t no way I can make my house note now,” she said, “Barely keepin’ up with my light bill as it is.”

“I feel you. I ain’t doin’ so good myself. ” he said.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“Not me. My best friend Elijah. He got hisself popped at a party just mindin’ his own biniss.”

“He dead?” she asked.

“As a fuckin’ doornail. Oh. Sorry ’bout the language.”

“Lord, I’m sorry too, and me goin’ on about myself,” she said,” At least he gone home now.”

” I s’pose so, “he said,” But I like to send that mother fucker with the gun home, too. Oh. Sorry.”

“That’s OK. I understand. But you know you can’t take the law in your own hands,” she said. “They’ll throw your butt in the penitentiary so fast you won’t have time to bend over and kiss it good bye.”

“I know you right.” he said. “But he gotta pay.”


“Hey, girl, how ’bout you and me forgot about that mother who popped Elijah and forget about your no-good boss and forget about this late-ass bus? We could step into this fine ‘stablishment for somethin’ cold to drink. All this talk is makin’ me thirsty.”

“Well, a nice cool drink do sound nice. As long as you payin’.”

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