Drafted: 5/10/06 11.48PM. Posted: 25/2/07 1.28AM (unedited) [probably usable, too much rambling]
Reflective scene. Note: I forsee more posts like this. It's still early in the writing process and I think I'm spending more time getting to know my characters and letting them talk to me, to us, rather than having an actual plot at the moment. I have discussed several plot possibilities with 1 or 2 of you, and I will take those suggestions into consideration. Thanks for your input. Any more suggestions please lemme know? thanks.
I found myself taking the bus home the next day. This wasn't routine, for Dillian would usually give me a lift home, since we lived so close to each other. In fact, one of my schoolmates asked if we had an argument, and hoped that our 'relationship' was 'okay'. Relationship?! Did we really look 'together'? I shrugged it off. It was another straw in the hump of a bad day that I was having. Anal lecturers, impossibly long queues during lunch hour, and the incessant stares and wolf-whistles from half-baked guys from whom sophistication was gloriously absent.
I guess it was probably a good thing that Dillian could not drive me home that day. He was Not exactly good company when one was moody. Besides, there were quite a few good looking girls on the same bus I was on. But they did not rouse my interest for long. It was one of those days, I suppose. The bus hit the expressway and started to pick up speed. I extended a hand out of the window and let it dangle there, more exhausted than I'd thought. The wind flowed past us, brushing my hands and feeling very much like the reigns of some great chariot. I felt, for a moment, like Apollo in his chariot of the sun. And I was reminded of the myth of his son perishing because of his inability to control said chariot. I wondered if Apollo ever had any daughters worth mentioning. Everything in existance was male oriented. Even the language we used leans in favor of males.
I was about to nod off when we pulled into.....................[end of draft]
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