I’m dreaming and it terrifies me, although I know it’s a dream because I’ve had it before, or at least ones similar to this.
I’m driving a double-decker bus. I’m alone, no passengers, just me.
It’s late on a drizzly night in an empty city, but not any city I’ve ever been to. Not the city where I live. There is no traffic. No vehicles are parked up.
I have to be somewhere – but I don’t know where – and I’m running late. There are no direction signs or SatNav and nobody on the street to ask; just me and the empty roads.
I sense I have to pick up important people and take them some place. I try hard to figure it out. Could they be schoolkids, or workers going to a night shift. I’m definitely / maybe certain that they’re relying on me and something bad will happen if I don’t get to them on time.
I put my foot on the gas but a safety device stops the bus going faster. There’s a bright white light up ahead and I aim for it. The traffic lights are at red but I sail through. I’m consumed by the light.
Then, my phone vibrates and the Band of the Coldstream Guards blares, ending my dream. I fumble for my glasses, take the phone and stare into its screen. I don’t recognise the number. I don’t know who’s calling me at three in the morning and it frightens me to death.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 