Writing Prompt #2
Write a mini-story (less than 500 words) that begins with: “They had nothing to say to each other.”
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They had nothing to say to each other. And even if they did, it wouldn’t have mattered. Both men knew the rules; both understood the consequences of breaking them. The risks were high enough already. Too much planning had gone into this moment. They couldn’t afford to be careless.
Speaking wasn’t necessary anyway, the protocol was clear. The young man was to take a seat on the bench at the southbound bus stop and wait. Having grown up in the neighborhood he knew the bus stop well. As a teenager he had spent countless afternoons in the café just across the street, sipping coffee and watching the people as they waited and then boarded the buses. The bus stop had always fascinated him. People coming, people going, people waiting to be taken away. How many hot afternoons had the man spent dreaming of the day when his bus would arrive, spiriting him away to the better life he always knew he deserved? Times were different then.
The young man hadn’t been waiting long when he was joined by his partner. The two men had never met but recognized each other immediately. The second man was older than the first, but not by much. Seated next to one another the two could have passed as brothers. They even wore similar clothing. The older man offered an empty smile as he took his seat on the bench. In his right hand he carried a black briefcase which he lifted and placed gently upon his lap.
“You know what you have to do.”
It wasn’t a question. The young man hesitated imperceptibly and nodded his assent. Apparently satisfied, the older man turned the dial on one of the briefcase locks then passed the case onto the other man’s lap. His task now complete, the older man stood up, checked his watch, and walked away. A siren sounded somewhere in the distance, but the young man didn’t notice. His attention was fixed intently upon the slender briefcase before him. He took a deep breath. He took another. It was time.
Picking up the briefcase the young man glanced at the dial next to the case’s lock. Two minutes. Two minutes and his debt would be repaid. A lifetime of dreams were about to be realized. Even after so many years spent waiting he could never have imagined the truth. The vehicle that would deliver him to his new life wasn’t a bus, after all. His ticket to paradise was inside a smooth, black briefcase; alongside a portable bomb on a two minute timer.
With a final deep breath the young man stepped into the street and headed towards the crowded café.
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They had nothing to say to each other. And even if they did, it wouldn’t have mattered. Both men knew the rules; both understood the consequences of breaking them. The risks were high enough already. Too much planning had gone into this moment. They couldn’t afford to be careless.
Speaking wasn’t necessary anyway, the protocol was clear. The young man was to take a seat on the bench at the southbound bus stop and wait. Having grown up in the neighborhood he knew the bus stop well. As a teenager he had spent countless afternoons in the café just across the street, sipping coffee and watching the people as they waited and then boarded the buses. The bus stop had always fascinated him. People coming, people going, people waiting to be taken away. How many hot afternoons had the man spent dreaming of the day when his bus would arrive, spiriting him away to the better life he always knew he deserved? Times were different then.
The young man hadn’t been waiting long when he was joined by his partner. The two men had never met but recognized each other immediately. The second man was older than the first, but not by much. Seated next to one another the two could have passed as brothers. They even wore similar clothing. The older man offered an empty smile as he took his seat on the bench. In his right hand he carried a black briefcase which he lifted and placed gently upon his lap.
“You know what you have to do.”
It wasn’t a question. The young man hesitated imperceptibly and nodded his assent. Apparently satisfied, the older man turned the dial on one of the briefcase locks then passed the case onto the other man’s lap. His task now complete, the older man stood up, checked his watch, and walked away. A siren sounded somewhere in the distance, but the young man didn’t notice. His attention was fixed intently upon the slender briefcase before him. He took a deep breath. He took another. It was time.
Picking up the briefcase the young man glanced at the dial next to the case’s lock. Two minutes. Two minutes and his debt would be repaid. A lifetime of dreams were about to be realized. Even after so many years spent waiting he could never have imagined the truth. The vehicle that would deliver him to his new life wasn’t a bus, after all. His ticket to paradise was inside a smooth, black briefcase; alongside a portable bomb on a two minute timer.
With a final deep breath the young man stepped into the street and headed towards the crowded café.