The impossible-to-bear stench of the man next to me explains the only free seat on the full bus.
It also explains my stupidity.
He reeks of something foul, contagious, putrefact.
I'm still sitting next to him.
Welp, too late now.
It would be embarrassing to get up.
***
A/N: Theme song: "Weird Al Yankovic: Another One Rides The Bus."
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Tiny Tales | ✔️
Short StoryThis book is a collection of numerous short stories I have created, both mini and midi ones, written in the period of the past twenty years. Some of them are award-winning entries in various micronarrative competitions. Others were adapted with the...
