Fiction Mondays is a writer’s showcase posted every Monday. My goal eventually is to feature writers work here. Amateur, to published writers, and those who love the written word. To express and receive feedback. The writing can be fan-fiction, original short stories, poetry as well as sneak peaks of published authors latest release. Some of you may recognize and love while other will be a new discovery.
Browse Inside The Hypnotist by Gordon Korman
There was something evil about the Third Avenue bus. It stood there, almost taunting, as Jackson Opus came tearing along the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, yelling,
“Hey! Hey! Wait!” He was no more than six feet away when the door folded shut, the air brakes hissed, and the long accordion style vehicle eased out into traffic. Jax stopped short, utterly defeated. A second later, he was rear-ended by Tommy Cicerelli, who had just enough breath left to shout a few choice words at the zit-cream ad on the back of the disappearing bus.
“We’ll be late,” Jax predicted. “Coach is so going to kill us.”
“We can’t be late for the championship game!” Tommy ranted.
“Maybe there’ll be another one soon.” Sure enough, another M33 crested the rise. The boys rushed to the stop only to watch in despair as the driver went by without so much as a glance at them out of the corner of his eye.
Tommy slammed his gym bag against the pole. “Hey, man, what about us?”
“No way another bus is going to come now,” Jax mourned. “Not after two in a row.”
Yet only a minute or so later, there it was — the route number in the front windshield clearly read M33. Even from down the avenue, Jax and Tommy could tell it was packed to the roof. The driver was concentrating on the horizon, without even looking at the stop where they were waiting.
“He’s blowing us off!” Tommy wailed.
In desperation, Jax stepped out into the road, waving madly until he caught the driver’s attention. Standing there in the lane, he had a brief flash of how he must have looked to someone on the bus — a twelve-year-old kid in the path of tons of roaring machinery. It was more vivid than a daydream. For an instant, he actually saw himself through the glass of the windshield, growing larger and larger as the bus bore down on him. He held his ground. Not for a regular game; not even for the playoffs. For the championship.
With a screech of metal on metal, the huge vehicle lurched to a halt. Hefting their duffels, Jax and Tommy squeezed aboard.
“Opus, you are the man!” Tommy exclaimed in awe.
“I’m the man, all right. If I can’t get us uptown by seven thirty, I’m the dead man.” As Jax leaned over to swipe his MetroCard, he caught sight of the driver. The man was staring at him, his face expressionless.
“You freaked the guy out,” Tommy whispered. “Even in New York, it’s not every day some idiot steps out in front of a speeding bus.” read more . . . Browse Inside The Hypnotist by Gordon Korman
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