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triskellianMy homework this week for my course (in addition to the essay I'm writing), was to write something metaphorical about Oxford buses. It's rather silly, but I had fun writing it, so I'm sharing it.
Bus-monsters
The bus opens its mouth and the waiting people enter willingly. Their fingers are numb from the cold, their minds are numb from fatigue and waiting, and they don't notice the slightly scaly skin of the bus; they don't notice the slightly warm and wet insides of the bus. There are seats, but the numb people don't notice that they are hard and smooth. They don't notice that the backs of the seats are distinctly pointed.
The walls of the bus start to vibrate, and a deep humming sound lulls the people on their hard, smooth seats. It's a happy noise, and the people relax, and forget to be concerned.
The bus moves off, creeping gently through traffic, careful not to disturb its precious cargo. The bus chooses a route, and if any of the passengers notice that it's not the usual one, they are too numb and relaxed to protest.
Arriving home, the bus opens its mouth once more, and disgorges its victims. They stumble out, blinking, into the cavernous bus depot, and they don't notice the circle of minibuses surrounding them until it's too late.
Bus-monsters
The bus opens its mouth and the waiting people enter willingly. Their fingers are numb from the cold, their minds are numb from fatigue and waiting, and they don't notice the slightly scaly skin of the bus; they don't notice the slightly warm and wet insides of the bus. There are seats, but the numb people don't notice that they are hard and smooth. They don't notice that the backs of the seats are distinctly pointed.
The walls of the bus start to vibrate, and a deep humming sound lulls the people on their hard, smooth seats. It's a happy noise, and the people relax, and forget to be concerned.
The bus moves off, creeping gently through traffic, careful not to disturb its precious cargo. The bus chooses a route, and if any of the passengers notice that it's not the usual one, they are too numb and relaxed to protest.
Arriving home, the bus opens its mouth once more, and disgorges its victims. They stumble out, blinking, into the cavernous bus depot, and they don't notice the circle of minibuses surrounding them until it's too late.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-04 07:00 pm (UTC)A couple of hours after writing it, I had to take the bus I was thinking of at the time, which was pretty creepy ;-)