Hunger pangs again


I'm bored, and restless. The writer kid just had an argument or something with that woman in the pink feathers. Some new guy got on. What is it with the new people? New guy is wearing sunglasses. It’s early evening. Not really bright enough to warrant the dark glasses, but there you go, not like this bus is full of normal people, is it?

I make myself jump as my stomach grumbles loudly. Time goes too quick. Gabby’s arm is healed, but the smell of the blood on her clothes and the bandage, now discarded on the floor, makes itself more prominent to me, as if to spite me. Considering how much I’ve feed recently, compared to prolonged periods of starvation before, I suppose quickened return of the hunger was only to be expected. I shift in my seat, wanting to move. But how can I move without looking suspicious? I can’t. That’s the simple truth of it.

I have to suffer it out until we next stop. I look out at the bleak landscape passing us. I hope we stop soon. I'm hungry. That rabbit was not quite enough, though the thought behind it was well meaning. Gabby looks at me with vague concern as my stomach makes itself heard again. I feel my face heat up and I slouch into my seat uneasily, eager for the hunger pangs pass soon.

The End

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