A short story.

Short stories don’t have to be fun. They can be deep and meaningful. Here is an example from my own work.

The bus.

Monday morning. The rain. The pain. Bus again. The 41. ‘Oh How I hate the number 41’ Frank thought to himself wiping his nose, his snot redden nose. His umbrella unfolded like a dying duck trying to escape a farmers trap. Frank tried to regain control but failed, loosing his grip as the umbrella flew across the street. “Damn you!” he shouted loud. Nobody looked, nobody ever looked.

The bus was approaching. Frank readied his oyster card. He knew he had £1.40 left on it, he had checked the day before. The crowd that had suddenly appeared jostled for the best position. Frank just waited. He knew he would get on, not a seat, but at least he would be moving. The doors opened and they herded them-selves in. Frank grunted and waited and grunted. Eventually it was his turn to swipe his oyster card of dreams. Errrk! The red light shone. Errk! Again. ‘What?’ No’ “But I have £1.40 left on my card, I checked yesterday!”
“Off the bus please sir” said the driver.
“But I have…” Frank tried.
“Off the bus please sir” said the driver. Again. Frank could do nothing he got off the bus. People looked, they looked now. Monday morning. The rain. The pain. Guess I’ll walk again.

The End.

This story is obviously about the current ressestion, Frank (the artist) wants to move on in life. But he’s being stopped by the crowd (the bankers) and the oyster card of ‘Dreams’.

See if you can write a story that’s moving, deep and as meaning as mine.