Journey home

It was a bleak afternoon in year 11. Winter was imminent, with short days of sunlight and chilly gales. Another long school day had passed and darkness was already creeping into the school. My friend had offered me a chewing gum, which I eagerly accepted to keep me awake on the coach journey home. With my bus pass in hand, I approached the arriving vehicle, knowing not to push for the front if I wanted to remain in one piece. Stepping up onto the coach, I skilfully balanced on the step, avoiding the steep fall below into the gutter and the overly impatient younger years behind me. The queue was caused by the bus driver wanting everyone to spit out their chewing gum and to set down some rules. The girl in front of me threw her gum into the overflowing Sainsbury’s carrier bag sprawled on a reclined seat. But I stubbornly did not. I thought I would get away with it as long as he didn’t see me chew. Of course, I forgot to stop chewing when I was balancing on the coach step and observing who was around me. So the bus driver knew straight away that I had some. He shouted, demanded I sat downstairs and threatened to take my bus pass off me. Luckily he didn’t take it off me but made me sit downstairs. After seeing my confused friends’ faces travel upstairs, I angrily stuck my earphones into my ears and sulkily stared out the window.

My mood didn’t last long. Sun rays began breaking through the oppressive winter clouds as we approached nearer home. My music changed- Muse, The 2nd Law: Isolated System. But most prominently, three beautiful horses were running through the traffic. They ran with such grace and sheer prominent beauty, with their manes flying and shimmering in the rays of sunlight, galloping towards freedom. They ran as though they were finally able to run again. They ran as though their life depended on it. The power and determination in which they ran was astounding. The scene transfixed me. Buses began to stop, passengers began to turn their heads, people finally began to notice. Nothing seemed to stop them as they raced towards the clearing in the traffic.

As the coach turned away and my music began to end, I looked back at them. They were still racing; towards what I don’t know. But if I hadn’t of sat downstairs, away from my friends, I may not have seen them or experienced such a surreal and beautiful moment.


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