A short story by Brian Mann



I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was the nastiest person I had ever seen. I was sitting on the bus when she hobbled in and sat next to me. My first reaction was to move to a different seat. She smelled like onions. I didn’t move, I was raised better than that. She was wearing a frumpy brown coat, although I’m not sure if it was originally brown, and underneath was a sweat-stained nightgown. She had a pearl necklace, although it only had about four pearls left on it. I made eye contact with her. She smiled, revealing a set of gums with a few yellowing teeth thrown in. I nodded, trying to be polite.

“My name is Ms. Lucille.” I was quiet for a second, I didn’t know what to do. I slowly nodded and said, “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Lucille.” Her smile widened, and she giggled. This was getting bad. She leaned closer to me, her breath smelled of after dinner mints. “Do you know who I am?” I was feeling uncomfortable, but I replied, “Ms. Lucille?” She cackled and nodded sadly, “Unfortunately I am. Do you know why I ride the bus everyday?” I thought hard for a second, then opened my mouth to speak- she interrupted, “It’s because two years ago, I lost my job. I was a nurse.” She paused, hesitating. “I worked in the pediatric unit of the hospital. There was a child… She was in a car accident. It tore me up, the poor girl. Luckily she was going to be okay.” She stopped, sniffling. She opened her handbag, I would call it a purse, but that seems to lady-like for her, and she pulled out a mint, unwrapped it, and tossed it in her mouth. “I don’t understand. Why did you lose your job?”

“That little girl survived her accident… I also had a daughter… who died in that accident. I felt… cheated. I purposely botched the surgery.” Her eyes close and a single tear rolls down her cheek. I sit in silence, not knowing what to say. I start to open my mouth, but the bus rolls to a stop, and the bus driver called, “This is your stop Ms. Lucille.” She stood up, nodded to me, and left.

Later, while getting off at my stop, the driver stopped me, “That story she told you? That didn’t happen. She has a different story every night. She’s crazy.”