(The following story is an original piece, but not written recently. I'm trying to write some Lois and Clark fiction...but am having trouble coming up with ideas that someone else hasn't already written! I am however really enjoying reading all the gorgeous work shared you you guys here.)
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The man stood freezing at the bus stop.
He wore old jeans, boots that had seen more than one hard winter that was obvious from the salt stains, and a well-worn thin jacket. His skin was well chapped and his hair badly needed a trim and shampoo.
Everyone else who stood shivering in the shelter looked at the desperate look in his bloodshot eyes and then quickly looked away. He looked as if he needed many things, yet no one stopped to ask what it was that gave him that look. That look that said, "Help me, I don't know what to do."
The temperature was well below zero, and everyone was patiently waiting for the now late running buses. With every bus that eventually pulled up, he scrutinized the coming and going passengers. These new shivering persons also shifted their glances from him. Children pointed at him and asked their mothers and grandmothers "who was that?” They quickly replied "no-one" and pulled their children to the safety of the other end of the shelter.
On the odd occasion that a person looked at him longer, with a look of feeling in their eyes, he would begin to take small steps towards them. Most times they quickly turned their heads. Their looks were looks of pity. Finally the man got up the nerve to do what he came to do. He went up to his fellow man and asked simply for "some change to take the bus." Many people shook their heads saying "NO, You'd only use it to help you but cigarettes or booze," others firmly said "NO!” A few said "Sorry, I don't have any." All inside the shelter refused to reach out and help.
A lone figure stood outside the shelter. She had been watching and listening. Her conscience was battling her. She was scared of going up to the stranger and of what the other passengers would say, but her conscience told her that she had to help this man. She didn't want this to continue. The girl thought to herself, if I had forgotten or lost my bus pass, I would be in the same predicament as this man. I would hope that someone would help me by giving me enough change to take the bus. On the other hand, if I give this man the change he desires, how do I know he won't go around the corner and use it to buy booze? She battled with herself in silence for a few minutes as she watched the man ask more people who continued to refuse, as he made his way through the crowd.
The girl stepped into the shelter. Her mind was made up. She would help this man the best she could. He spotted her near the spot he had begun his plight and a look of desperate hope closed his eyes. He was thinking would she be like the others? Or will she help me? He crossed to the spot where she stood and asked her his many times repeated question. The girl looked closely at him and said "I can't give you change, but I will give you this." In her hand she held her last emergency bus ticket. The awful orange shade almost seemed to glow in the light from the lamp above their heads. The man looked at what the girl's hand held. He could not believe his luck. He could finally get home to his wife and kids. His car had broken down a few blocks away and he had left his wallet at home. His bus could be here any minute. Neither said anything. The girl began to think that the others in the shelter were right, that he did not need money for the bus after all. She began to put her arm down feeling as if the human race had somehow failed her and that her good intentions would not be appreciated when the man said "Thank-you". He took the now re-offered ticket, said "God bless you," and he was gone.
