Flicker and Pause

We cannot decide when the bus comes – only how we wait. 

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Ponderous, at the bus stop all ignore

Mind going over faint lights;

Little cracks in the cement surface.

My breath fogs the air ,

Covering timetable edges

Tapping thrice

Frigid metal

Of rails.

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A light afar flickers

Thrice, in tandem

With approaching feet

Even marches pause,

Shimmer

In a puddle.

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Too late.

The bus -a figment.

The street waits, still. 

The clicks

Of the flickering light

Echo.

Cannot be paused.

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I get up

Still tapping thrice

But faintly.

My breath fogs –

And lingers.

But i stay 

Present.

Calm.

In its cloud.

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Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.