Young Writers Society

My life is like a train stuck on its tracks, boring deep into the soulless pit of routine. My life is too predictable. Every day I catch the bus to work. I always take the same bus, the 3-32 to the downtown square. My routine never changes. The idea of changing my routine makes my head spin, and I feel a lack of the control that I should be able to have over my small fragile life. Without routine, I feel helpless.

I take the bus at the same time every day; I leave my apartment by 7:35am and catch the 7:42am bus. On it are the same bizarre people, the old woman with the puffy blue coat and round glasses who falls asleep and gurgles spit in her mouth, the other the lady with the scarf in her hair who sings opera songs on the bus and stares at my toes, and then there’s Dex. Dex always stays standing, and he always has a backpack; he isn’t too strange.

The bus stays the same as well; flat velvety seat cushions with colourful dots. When the bus stops in front of the coffee shop by my house, it moans and purrs and usually lets out a loud grunt of weariness. I usually pat the side of the bus as I step on and whisper “don’t worry old boy”. The bus ride is usually about half an hour, I always smile and say good morning to the people I recognise, and then I stand beside Dex. His stop is right before mine, but we talk till he has to get off.

On this particular day, it was sunny, yet the frost still hung to the air and the melting snow sloshed under my booted feet. I grabbed a coffee from the little store beside the bus stop and warmed my hands on the tender cup. The bus came on time as always. It didn’t matter what weather conditions there were, it always came at 7:42am. Today the bus let out a heavy bellow of exhaust; I patted it kindly as always.

I followed along with my normal routine, saying good morning to the bus driver, the old lady with the round glasses and the middle aged lady with the scarf. I looked at the window where Dex usually stood and noticed a lack of his presence. My routine immediately went off course; what was I going to do now? I decided to sit down next the old lady; she smiled kindly and gazed out the window crawling back into her skin and forgetting about the world outside and remembering her world of the unknown.

The bus stopped with a halt, and I decided to get off; I jumped off and thanked the bus driver. I didn’t have to be at the theater until 11am, but I would always go to work early to help set up for our theater practices. I finished my coffee and I walked around the block; this was still my neighbourhood so I knew where I was. This was nice. This was different. Never had I thought to do this, and why? Because I was stuck in my routine.

Never had I thought about it that way, I was stuck in my routine, not clearly controlling it. It was controlling me; dragging me to its depths and pulling me under into its domicile, making me frightened and worried of what would happen if I tried to pull away. Yet, what my routine didn’t take into consideration was the fact of other people’s actions. Dex was not on the bus today; because my routine never thought someone else may not be on the bus, someone that was important to my everyday doings, my routine lost the battle of wits.

So here I sit at the coffee shop by my apartment, a warm cup of chai tea in my hands and a half eaten cranberry scone on the table. Jazz music playing in the background relaxing my senses and a handsome young man staring at me fondly, I smile at him. Thank god I broke free from the chains and shackles of routine. Thank god for Dex, because without his lack of presence this morning, the handsome young man would not be sitting down next to me right now.

Hi there WelcomingException!

The title appealed to me so I thought I might click this. It's definitely... Well, I'm not sure what to think of it. I can't really feel that it's necessarily a short story, but it feels more like a personal narrative - like you are the protagonist! You have all the things that a good personal narrative must have and so that's why I'm thinking that. However, I'll review it by where it is posted - General Fic. Still, as a personal narrative, it would be really awesome.

And as a short story, I don't know if I'm a huge fan of it. It's kind of dull just as a stand-alone story, you know? There's nothing entirely appealing about it. Pretty much it's just a girl that realizes how controlling her routine is, how her primary reaction to Dex's absence was sort of along the lines of how an obsessive compulsive might react. As something fictional, it's boring unless it's an excerpt of something interesting. But I can't really place many qualities where it really might attract a reader who wants to read some good general fiction.

Nevertheless, a few nitpicks:

The bus stays the same as well: flat velvety seat cushions with colourful dots.

Changed the semi-colon to a colon. You can only use a semi-colon if you're joining two independent clauses. In plain English, that's when you're joining two sentences that, if need be, can be written as stand alone ones.

Also, I was a little confused by the ending. The descriptions of the little cafe she's in are quaint and sweet, but I'm confused still about the handsome young man she talks about. Is this someone she knows previously or a man she just met? Also, one minute he's smiling at her and the next he's sitting next to her? I think you should be more clear: is she thanking Dex's absence on the bus because she got to meet a hot new guy that could potentially be her boyfriend or something? I don't see how the handsome young man is really important until you're more precise. Is this the point of your story: that she got a handsome new man out of it? I really doubt this.

Anyway. If you have any questions about this review, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM.

Yours,
Lavvie