Almost complete

Since I am really bad at this whole "inspiration" thing I have resorted to mining the Internet for those little writing exercises you encounter in pretty much every writing class out there. You know what I am talking about, right? Exercises like..."Your character has just met the devil. Write" (A Rishel one) or "Write about flying a kite" (An Ockert one). So here is one courtesy of Writers Block Solution: "Taking the Bus 1"

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Heat Seeking

The space heater coughed up a set of screws in the middle of the night. I thought I heard a clatter at 2am, but dismissed it as a dream, nothing serious. However, in the morning my pet rabbit Arizona kicked around a set of screws with the tips of his floppy ears.
"Did you do this Arizona?" I asked while aiming a tiny flashlight under the chocolate brown unit in the corner of my living room.
Arizona twitched his nose and pulled one of his ears to his mouth. He began to lick himself clean.
Last week the fridge had developed a frequent rattling that sounded like the clicking language of a bushman. And one of the stove burners always smoked no matter how hard I scrubbed the thing. The heater literally crapping out some of its vital innards should not have surprised me. I called Mr. Podos and left a message on his machine. Outside a stiff wind kicked up a miniature whirlwind of leaves and then I felt cold. Arizona stomped his back feet, cocking a leg just a centimeter off the ground before slamming it into the floorboards in protest. It was a Sunday.

I emptied out my hamper and spent thirty minutes trying to persuade Arizona into lying there. I hollowed out a little alcove in the socks saying, "C'mon you dumb bunny! You'll freeze!" I got down on the floor and motioned with my head, trying my best to be rabbit-like, but Arizona ran back to the kitchen a slumped on the cold linoleum. I noticed the sweat forming under my parka and considered staying in with some tea to keep me warm. However, I imagined Arizona would be fine.

Outside, I just caught the bus as it pulled up to the stop by the library. Bus E-7 ran across the county, a forty minute drive even without stops. Forty minutes of warmth under one of the fans right in the middle of the bus. I did this in the summer too, to keep cool under the air conditioner the bag ladies who always rode up front complained was too strong. I usually brought a book with me, but never got past the few pages. The bus always had a numbing effect on me so that I dropped in and out of sleep for the entire ride. It would be warm.

After ten minutes I noticed that I had no idea who was the driver. With Cliff or Amy they usually let me run around the full county loop if I dropped an extra dollar or two into the cash tray. I did this time, but the extra fare was all in dimes, hence not easily spotted. The driver had the tan colored polo of a trainee, instead of the navy blue of a veteran driver. I hoped he wouldn't turn out a hardass. He focused on the road, while I scrunched further down into my seat. I slept for another five minutes.

Katie got on the bus as it entered the city limits. She wore an powder blue sweater over a ruffled print skirt she threw over a pair of black leggings. At work she always seemed to combine two seasons like that into her clothes. The supervisor once called her odd, and I had wanted to say something, but the bus was just pulling up the curb that time too.

Katie cocked a smile at me and waved a glove hand. She shuffled over to my seat and swung around the pole to sit next to me. "Morning Jonathan."
"Hey, Katie." I straightened out and leaned my head against the window.
I hadn't noticed her backpack when she walked onto the bus. She dropped it. "What are you doing on the bus?"
Not having anything on me and it being a blustery Sunday I told her the truth. I told her about the heater and how I would freeze if not for the warmth of a nice bus ride.

[Bah! I am not even going to try and save that. I don't know why I introduced the feminine foil just for the hell of it. Bah! But I have an ending! Let us say our narrator, Jonathan, feels dejected after the bus ride.]

If the stairs to my apartment did not creek then I believed I would have heard the angry thumping from above. I opened the door and Arizona bolted out of the apartment, running to the stairs where he remained utterly confused at this difference in geography. Inside the apartment it was still cold and the pile of clothes remained untouched. Arizona stayed at the stairs twitching his nose and wiggling his whiskers until his tiny front paws curled over the precipice of a stair step and pulled forward. He was almost out.