178. ... by the letter P
© Bruce Goodman 6 April 2014

Paul drove a bus. Around the city. All day. He stopped for lunch. He stopped for a couple of breaks. He hated taking breaks. He needed the money.

Today, he didn’t need just the money. He needed to pee. Goodness! Did he what? He needed to pee! He needed to pee…

He missed all the bus stops. He whizzed straight passed. People wanted to get off the bus at their stops. They shouted abuse. He wasn’t listening. He wanted to pee… He wanted to pee…

He thought, “Do I wet my pants and carry on? I’ve got to pee…”

Down a fairly deserted street, he suddenly came to halt, leapt out and had a pee in the long grass on the side of the road.

Girls giggled. Boys were in awe. Old people thought, fair enough. Some people politely turned their eyes away. Others looked on sympathetically.

“Sorry about that,” Paul said as he got back on the bus. “What else could I do?”

Everyone murmured one way or another.

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