I am a pinball.

On the commute into town, there was something rolling on the floor of the bus with every turn, like a marble. With each stop and opening of the doors, I prayed that it would make its way out onto the street. It became a game, “If it rolls under that man wearing the fedora’s seat, 20 POINTS! If it rolls to the back of the bus and touches the wall, 35 POINTS! If it makes it out of the door, 50 POINTS! If it manages to travel under someone’s shoe and makes them fall, 1000 POINTS!!!” But no, it never made it anywhere fun like that. It only continued to rattle and roll throughout the bus floor driving me insane.

When my stop neared, I pulled the cord and made my way to the front of the bus. The driver was coming off a major smack high and made a sudden jerky stop, and wouldn’t you know I was tripping and bouncing off seats and sliding and holding on FOR DEAR LIFE like that crazy little ball? I could almost hear hands slamming against the plastic buttons on either side of the machine as imaginary levers catapulted me back into play. I started giggling out loud because I know I looked ridiculous. The driver even started laughing, “Sorry, Baby. Have a good day”

As I stepped off the bus and onto the street, the voice in my head said, “GAME OVER”.

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