It was raining hard, and the temperature was close to 15 degrees Celsius. To make matters worse, the old bus stop's roof was in a ill shape, completely unable to sustain the amount of water pouring from the sky, leaking severely. I shivered, ten spite the fact that I was warmly dressed in a thick, wind-breaker hoody and a pair of baggy jeans.
Being a alligator, a cold-blooded animal, it should be obvious for me to despise such climate and would search for better shelter, but I had little choice but to stay; I was in the very heart of the industrial district, dozens of miles from my home, and walking in this weather was out of the question.
"Come on!" I thought, frustrated, looking at my watch. "Where is it?"
The bus, and my ticket to warmer conditions, was at least half an hour late. It happened sometimes, for the vehicle was a old, rusty thing, often experiencing trouble of some sort, laboring for the last thirty years bringing folks like me in and out of the city.
Speaking of folks, I was not alone at the bus stop, for there were others sharing my silent torment: a overweight male badger, a tall male fox, an attractive female cat, and a very athletic tiger, all looking as solemn, and most like feeling as irritated, as me.
I could hear the sound of a deep rumble coming down the street, followed by the loud bang of a car backfiring, and around the corner, through the pouring rain, came the bus, wipers wiping frantically over its front window, its old, weary driver, a human, sitting behind the steering wheel.
"Finally!" I though, sighing with relief.
I could not wait to get out of here! Crawling up the street, it came to a halt before us, and the doors opened. Being in front of me, the badger and cat were the first to enter, and then me, but when I tried to climb in, I felt a powerful force shove me out of the way.
I tripped and fell into a puddle of freezing water, soaking my clothing. I looked up to sneer at the perpetrator but discovered it was none other than the athletic tiger.
"Stay out of my way, twerp," he said, climbing into the bus.
I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but I thought twice; confronting a 6 foot, well-built, cocky tiger such as him would be life-threatening if you were a 5 foot, 140 pound weakling such as me.
Instead I held my tong, glaring and thinking angry thoughts as I picked myself up from the wet ground. No one seemed to have noticed how I was rudely pushed towards the ground, or perhaps they just didn't care. Such was the life in the big city; you either grow hard or leave.
Luckily for me the bus had lots of open seats, and I sat as far away as possible from the tiger, staring out the window, which I had to wipe clean every now and then, for it kept fogging up after a while.
The first stop the bus made was also my stop, which was at another bus stop in a small neighborhood. I hurried out, more than glad to be one step closer to escaping the awful weather.
The rain was letting up, but it still meant that I had to get a little wet on my journey home (not that I was much dry from my fall earlier). With a sigh, I pulled up my hood and ran as fast as I could down the sidewalk.
I lived in a two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac, a sturdy brick structure with a steel roof. In the driveway I saw a red van, and I knew that my brother was home.
Being a maintenance worker at a top security business, he always left early and came home late from his job, meaning that I couldn't catch a ride in and out of town with him.
But today he was rather early, which annoyed me a little; one might think if he got some down time he would come to fetch me instead of allowing me to wait at some gloomy bus stop.
"Hey, Jack, I'm home!" I called, after I ran up the porch and opened the door. "Where are you?"
"In the living-room, Martin," came his voice.
Jack was a big guy; even sitting on the sofa, watching TV, he seemed rather large. But height was not the only thing he had on him: he was a bodybuilder, but he also had some pudge on him. It was stereotypical, him being the big, big brother while me being the little, little brother.
"O, and there's a package for you, too," he continued.
"A package?" I asked.
"Yeah, you know?" he said, "That thing that's wrapped up in plastic wrap? It's on the kitchen's table."
It was odd: I could not remember ordering anything. Frankly, I was too poor do do stuff like that, but still, even if it was some mishap with mailing system, I was curious.
It was small, wrapped up in brown paper. With my sharp claws I ripped it open. Digging through the styrofoam, I found an even smaller, blue, round box.
After pulling off the bow that held it shut, I took away the lid and saw a piece of jewelry inside.
But what was it?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
