(no subject)
Today in Creative Writing we had a write a prompt based on the term "BUS TERMINAL." Here's what I wrote.
Billy the Bus drove in for his weekly tests performed by his doctor, Albert the Ambulance. Billy was in the waiting room, waiting to hear the results. Albert drove in slowly and sadly.
"Billy," said Albert cautiously.
"Oh, hey, Doc! How's it going?"
"Billy, there's...no easy way to say this."
"Say what?"
"It's terminal."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Billy. It's terminal. You have two days to live."
"Oh my God. I thought I was healthy. This is---this is horrible."
"I know, Billy. But there's...nothing I can do."
"But how will Troop 46 get to their weekly campsites without me?"
"Well, they'll probably just get...another bus."
Two days later, Billy the Bus was buried in a Catholic junkyard. He was 20 years old.
Billy the Bus drove in for his weekly tests performed by his doctor, Albert the Ambulance. Billy was in the waiting room, waiting to hear the results. Albert drove in slowly and sadly.
"Billy," said Albert cautiously.
"Oh, hey, Doc! How's it going?"
"Billy, there's...no easy way to say this."
"Say what?"
"It's terminal."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Billy. It's terminal. You have two days to live."
"Oh my God. I thought I was healthy. This is---this is horrible."
"I know, Billy. But there's...nothing I can do."
"But how will Troop 46 get to their weekly campsites without me?"
"Well, they'll probably just get...another bus."
Two days later, Billy the Bus was buried in a Catholic junkyard. He was 20 years old.