Fang Talks

Row row, fight the power!

Wrote this a few days ago for the prompt “The focus is on a single person observing the world around him/her whilst waiting for the bus. Must end with “but nothing good ever came from that.”” Apparently I did pretty well. You be the judge.

Public transport, I never really was a fan of it. Granted, unlike my education it actually gets me places, but it’s just as expensive and specific needs are still rarely catered to. I got to the stop way early, now waiting for the bus to arrive as impatiently as its driver and passengers will be waiting for me when I inevitably struggle to enter the vehicle. It’s already been a couple of months now, and I still haven’t gotten used to this prosthetic leg.

An old lady joins me and sits down a few seats away. She stared at my leg before she sat down. I used to do a lot of people watching to pass the time, but it’s gotten pretty hard to do. Everyone stares at you, some without noticing it, others don’t even want to. But they still stare. And judge. The old lady probably is the God-trusting conservative type, disgusted by my leg because I “shouldn’t replace something God took away”, or whatever. And yet when she’s in need of medical help herself she’s all too happy to forget about accepting God’s decisions for a moment.

In the distance two people are jogging. I can barely make them out, but they’re heading my way. As they get closer I notice it’s probably a couple. Must be nice, having someone to run with. I never did, but enjoyed myself nonetheless. Exercising felt good and kept me in shape. The couple gets close enough to notice my prosthesis. The girl turns her head slightly to talk to her boyfriend. She probably feels guilty over doing something I can’t in my face. Not that she should, I don’t really mind. She’s still judging me though, treating me different. That I do mind.

The bus arrives, and comes to a rather abrupt stop in front of me. I notice it’s pretty full already. A heavy, tired sigh is heard as I stand up and walk towards the door that just opened. I clumsily enter, make my way up the steps. It takes a while, and more and more people are starting to stare at me again. The bus driver grumpily looks away, and the old lady behind me starts tapping her foot. I want to tell everyone to stop judging me. I want to utter a small apology but also say I can’t help this. I want to break down and complain about my situation, about the world. But nothing good ever came from that.

Opinions would be cool, thanks for reading.
~ Fang


  • 05/09/2013 (5:43 AM)

    I like this story a lot. It’s well told and it’s unique. I’ve never actually stopped and thought what it must be like to have a prosthesis and be judged by everyone else. Great job!

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