Fate and Destiny and two distinct concepts that hold two distinct connotations which must not be confused for one another.
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-Will-
[08:40 am], [Southwest Suburbs]
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I live in a small house in the suburbs southwest of the city. I usually walk the 10-minute distance to the bus stop from my house and wait for the 08:40 bus that I ride to work. It’s a 40-minute ride, give or take a few minutes, just in time for my 09:30 shift.
Sitting at the bus stop I take stock of my bags to make sure I have everything, even though I already checked and double checked everything before I left the house. It never hurt to be prepared, something I learned from the ever-changing nightmares I have.
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The bus is on time today. I get on it and pay with the swipe card I have and take a seat at the middle right behind the driver; it gives me a side window that sees a lot of sunlight and sights on the way to work. I take a look around the bus, the same people board every day.
I never really got to know any of them too personally, I only overheard some names here and there. So, I made up backstories of what could be possible and impossible.
The teen in a blue hat is Marty, he goes to school on the way to downtown. Not much interesting there, but I did notice he changed from glasses to contacts and is growing a bit taller. That speaks volumes.
The old lady in the floral jacket is not on the bus every day, but she is on it most Mondays. I imagine she must a High-Witch in a Coven somewhere. She enjoys taking care of her cats and grandchildren, probably in that order. She also likes to take the bus for some mysterious reason. I haven’t figured that one out, yet.
The bus driver changes between your average joe Jon and the confirmed dream whisperer….
The stopping of the bus jolts me out of my thinking mode. I quickly take a look at my watch for the time and notice just as it changes.
09:03 am.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise up as I take a glance at the door. Blond hair with a platinum finish. A light red shirt that might as well have screamed blood, which reads 'Dying to Live'. As our eyes cross and I take in the woman I’m looking at, two thoughts cross my mind.
‘She is beautiful’
'I'm going to miss the bank
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.
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My name is William O’brian, and today, I die.