text: Timothy sat under the bus stop cover, checking his watch every few seconds. He was already late, as was the bus. "Pardon me, young man, do you have the time?" Timothy looked up to see an older women, hunched over and looking particularly sickly. Her hair was gray and knotted. Her face was wrinkled, her eyes carried heavy bags and snot was coming down her nose. Her friendly smile revealed rotting, discolored teeth. Timothy did his best to smile back. "It's a quarter till, ma'am." "A quarter till what?" the woman asked, smiling widely. "Apologies. A quarter till 8." Timothy felt a bit queasy as her breath was not very pleasant. Still, politeness dictated he smile. "Would you like my seat while we wait for the bus? It should be here shortly." Timothy stood up from the bench. "Well, yes. That would be lovely. Thank you, dear." the woman said as Timothy helped to the seat. "Young man, I'm going to close my eyes for a minute. Would you mind waking me when the bus arrives?" she asked of Timothy. "Certainly." Timothy replied, "And you can call me Timothy, if you'd like." "Timothy.. Timothy.. Timothy..." the old woman repeated to herself as she drifted off. A few moment later, Timothy saw the bus coming from down the street and said to the woman "Ma'am, the bus is arriving." She didn't respond. Timothy cleared his throat and spoke a bit louder, "Ma'am, the bus will be here shortly." Still, she didn't respond. Timothy leaned in to nudge the woman as the bus pulled up to the stop. The old woman didn't move. The driver opened the door. "Are you getting on?" "Yeah! One second!" Timothy replied. He nudged the woman again and she slumped over. Timothy's heart dropped. "Come on! I'm already late!" the bus driver called to Timothy. Timothy turned to the driver with a bit of a panicked look "I think something's wrong! Can you call an aide car?" "Not my problem! This bus is leaving with or without you!" the bus driver yelled back. Timothy thought for a moment. "Without!" he said to the driver. He turned back towards the woman as the bus closed it's door and headed toward the intersection. He tried to check her pulse. "BOOM!" Timothy jumped up and turned around to see a truck had rammed into the side of the bus. He watched as the two vehicles tumbled, the glass shattered, shouts and screams ripped across the sky. His heart nearly stopped when he felt the grip of boney fingers tightly wrap around his arm, his attention shot back to the old woman who was sitting upright and smiling. "Thanks for waiting with me, Timothy." she said as she stood to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, now. I have a bus to catch." Timothy looked back towards the carnage on the street and was about to run towards it to help. "Don't bother, young man." The woman said. "That bus is mine." She pulled her hood over head. Timothy watched as her cane transformed into a scythe. The old woman's pace picked up into a run and in an instant, he saw a flash of light leave the bus as the woman leapt into the sky. After a moment, Timothy's legs began to thaw. He tried to run toward the bus but, tripped hard over the curb and knocked himself unconscious. When he awoke, medical staff were tending to him. "Did anyone make it?" Timothy asked, pointing to the wreck. "Sorry, son. It doesn't look that way." the medic responded.