![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-05 07:05 pm (UTC)*groan*
(only comment in proof-reader mode; is there a limit on the repitition of numb in a sentance? I went to a comprehensive so didn't have lessons in this kind of thing).
Re:
Date: 2004-02-05 07:14 pm (UTC)Response in proof-reader mode: I'd certainly get rid of the repetition if this was a non-fiction piece I was editing, but I think it's more acceptable in fiction, and I was playing with repetition as part of the spirit of the class for which I wrote it, and seeing how much I could get away with ;-)
Oh, and...
Date: 2004-02-05 07:17 pm (UTC)Me too, and me neither ;-) It's kind of odd, actually, that about a third of the people in the class are foreign, and their knowledge of technical grammatical language is *much* greater than that of any of the native English speakers, because we simply weren't taught it.