5 December 2012
Can't you see me running, waving as you drive on by? I've been tailing you since the you left the station, and have a stitch in my thigh.
My heavy bag thumps on my back, and the only thing i can see - Your wry smile in the mirror, which infuriates me.
What kind of petty power has gone to your head, that takes pleasure in tormenting, when you could easily help instead?!
So Mr Bus Driver, the question i'll put to you: if i were in your place and you in mine, what would you have me do?
Running Late • Opuss № I