Devil at a Bus Stop

I'm walking down peter street, late evening.

I spy, to my surprise, the devil waiting at a bus stop.

I stop.

The Devil peers at me with a sideways glance,

so I ask, "What are you doing here, at a bus stop?"

Beelzebub looks at me, with the air of someone who's known too long to care. Unmistakable in his appearance though as to why, I'm unclear.

He meets my question with a slight mock grin, turning eyes to the sky he replies,

"Waiting on a bus."

'Waiting' came with the ring of an eternity. The kind of low buzz that sings constant

from electricity humming wires playing the rare to notice soundtrack of our day to day . The sound of forever.

"I thought I was late" I said, " For the bus. It should have just come and passed only just before I got here."

I was thinking out loud.

"You should have seen it, has it come here?"

Scanning in my direction with a disconnected glance, immediately turning his head back to a unfocused stare he shrugged.

"I'm still waiting" he growled plainly, in a raspy voice with flavor hints of disdain, but he maintained the sheerest of friendly demeanor s.

I leaned nearer the sign post parallel my posterior, Resting my weight in a lean to on the poll.

A false illustration of my continuing comfort. The true safety lost to the battle with my imagination, sieged upon the realization of who was there making my acquaintance.

Grasping at my common sense I try looking about, strategically casual.

I say "Looks like there's no telling" in a breathy sighing moan, as if to reassert my comfortable stance.

He saw through me in one skance peek, I knew, but my weak mind kept it's finger upon the now tattered security blanket I had made for me. I look to my feet. Their lack of wisdom the answer i need and I read invisible words spelling 'do nothing at all'.

It's reassuring to see the amusing proof that did so ease me; I still have my sole intact, two in all, as a matter of fact. Then I recall my surreal motivation for my jubilation and the grin my face cracked I withdrawal.

that leading to conversation would be a shy invitation to welcome total fear.

'stay calm'

A voice in my ear instructs me. It tugs me a bit back to my senses. As I realize he winces at the momentary fall in customary fences lining fleeting social dances I appall.

Then suddenly I receive a gift! The where with all to cease precarious paranoia's state, and withdrawal., myself from any potential situation as I recall...

Today I'd rather walk.

****unedited***