Ceata88

    I waited.    On the slightly worn bench inside the train station, I waited. A side one, mind you, that still sat out in the open air rather than underground. I didn’t keep track of how many years it had been around, but perhaps I could make a guess. Most of the structures had paint chipping off to reveal rust. Spots of old gum spotted the cement everywhere and weeds grew into the tracks.    Still, in spite of it’s age or location it got it’s fair share of business. People went in and out of it all day. Lovely people, I was sure of that. Many hard workers, parents, young ones looking for a vacation would wait patientl

    “How should I know why I have fingers?” Penelope said as she waved them in front of her eyes. “I don’t really know where I came from.”    “But it’s way unfair.” Bo was sitting on the clouds, pouting.    “It’s odd really, I mean, daddy has fingers.” Lillian held up her hooves.    Peep said nothing, tapping his together.    “Well maybe you’ll grow fingers when you’re promoted.” Penelope offered.    “But I wanna pick up weapons now.” Bo kicked at the air.    Before Penelope could think up a good response to that she heard Colchis

    “Hello,” the automated voice chimed from the other end of the line. “This is the Greenville County School District. We’ve called to inform you that your son Preston–”    “Is a sack of shit.” Belle shouted into the phone before she hung up. The rotten piece of plastic tried to protest as she jammed it back into her purse.    Everyone in the café stared at her, eyes wide, at least until she shot them a glare. They all went back to their newspapers and coffee and cheap sandwiches that were probably made the night before. She had almost forgotten how bad the food quality was in 2008.