He sat on the tiny bench inside the bus shelter. Ha, shelter. The glass roof had been broken months ago. The rain poured in steadily, soaking him. He tried running for the bus, but the driver wouldn't stop. Same thing every day. That fat, bald, jackass of a bus driver. He didn't like that bus driver. He looked at his watch, thirty minutes before the next bus would come. Same thing every day. A car rounded the corner sharply and flew through a puddle. The water sprayed up and coated him. He sighed. Things weren't going well today. Then again, things never went well for him.
A smile broke over his face. Things never went well for him. He was officially at rock-bottom. Nowhere to go but up, right? He stood, shook off what rain he could and began to walk. On the half hour walk to his house, he came across a small shop he had never noticed before. Antiques. He decided to go inside.
He spotted an amazing table in the corner, on sale too. He liked tables. They were sturdy. Dependable. He paid the shopkeeper $300.00 and left with his latest purchase. Stepping out the door, he tripped and fell. The table hit the ground hard, and splintered. $300.00 dollars, down the drain. He picked himself up and kept walking.
Ah well, such is life...
