Brooklyn Short Prose:

30 Minutes Away

By Diana Perez

I was definitely tired of the guy; he’d sat next to me in New Mexico and hadn’t shut up since. Now I was getting nervous because he got into some weird story about donkey shows. Most of the people on the bus were sleeping, and I wished I could rest too. Every time I closed my eyes, the idiot’s voice crept into my sleep and woke me. My stomach growled and I thought about what I would eat when I finally arrived home. I was so done with this ridiculous trip. Two days from New York to Texas on a piece of crap bus, dealing with snotty drivers and every smelly moron on the road thinking he was my best friend. I hadn’t been in my hometown for over two years. Now here I was, planning to surprise my family, my mouth watering over thoughts of home cooked meals. Outside it was dark, the world looked that special shade of blue-gray that you can only see while speeding along the road in a semi-cool, badly lit Greyhound bus. My legs were sore. I couldn’t wait to stand outside, couldn’t wait to have a cigarette while waiting for my best friend to pick me up. We hadn’t seen each other since my move to Brooklyn , and yet I felt as if I’d been with him just the day before. He was the only person I talked to almost everyday. I was the only one he’d told about his threesome in the desert, and he was the only one I’d told about my marriage, and consequent divorce. I could see the city lights now, like artificial stars on the horizon. Somewhere among those lights were my old friends, my family, all the broken memories I had left behind, or tried to leave at least. I’d skipped town thinking I wanted to escape my own reality, only to find that I really couldn’t do much until I dealt with my past. I was ready now. My life was finally going to begin. I leaned back and closed my eyes, grateful that the freak next to me had finally passed out. I could see everything in my mind now, all the happy faces, the old acquaintances, the new dreams coming true, and all the old pain just fading away. Now I could finally see myself, safe and back where I belonged. I drifted to sleep with a slight smile on my face, completely unaware; the driver was drifting into his own dreams as well. Picturing himself in a warm bed surrounded by pillows and a bottle of gin.