Back after a few weeks, it’s Friday Fictioneers, where people write a short story based on weekly photograph, ideally 100 words or less. This was the most challenging one that I’ve had keeping it under the desired limit.
Gary boarded the bus just before it pulled away, his bag clutched to his chest. Barely packed, but it would have to do. No time.
He remembered the old man’s warnings. “Can’t stay still. That’s how they get you. Can’t rest in one place. ‘Accidents,’ they’ll say, ‘coincidences.’ But we know, right?” Gary ignored the ramblings, even mocked them. But after the hospital, then the mall, and now the car…. No choice. Must keep moving.
The bus paused. A broad, surly, man came on board. He blinked at Gary’s nervous stare.
Gary slipped out between the closing doors, and ran…