Mouse house

It was getting dark.

I drove this route for the first time.

My stop was almost the last, so I sat in the first seat in the minibus number 77.

The salon quickly filled up and we left.

Sitting on the right, right next to the door, I had a great view through the windshield.

I looked at the road and thought, why am I going to the other end of a foreign city to buy live mice for my cats.

But it was too late to change anything, a full minibus raced along the autumn embankment, which was gradually covered by light rain and darkness.

About half an hour later, we left crowded neighborhoods, the private sector, isolated intersections and wet people who wanted to come to a warm salon.

After about two kilometers, the bus ate another half dozen people, who neatly packed themselves in the aisle of the Sprinter Mercedes.

Sitting comfortably in the front, I watched the entire minibus mood transformation.

With each new passenger, the degree increased, literally and figuratively.

Even I, a seemingly inviolable person who had almost grown into the seat, was pushed by the foot of a pretty stranger girl, the hand of some woman behind my shoulder and the guy’s shoe with pink hair and headphones on half his head, who parked on my sneakers for 40 hryvnias.

Grandmother, who had been traveling with me from the very beginning, was the first to lose her temper, but had to leave somewhere now, having made her way from the end through one and a half dozen bodies.

Her legit rang with curses and unwillingness to accept the fact that none of these fifteen people wanted to go out with her and she had to gnaw her way out on her own.

People grumbled each about their own, but the general discontent hung quite brightly in the salon. Everyone had not only to wait for the grandmother to come out, but also to allow her to scrape her old body past the people standing in the passage.

The Sprinter spit a grandmother, but the tension was not going to leave the car.

For some reason, the driver continued stopping and picking up more and more people standing on the side of the road.

The city was left further and further behind, we gradually found ourselves on the regional center outskirts.

Dark.
Mist.
The fully packed minibus rang with crowding and dreams that soon all the inconveniences would end, because the destination was getting closer and closer.

Checking my position on the map in my phone, I realized that my stop was already nearby.

Another turn on a narrow road.
A bright beam of light towards.
The driver yelled with swearing.
The light of another car opposite entered the cabin quickly and without hesitation.
The screeching of metal, plastic, people, hopes formed into one long sound that I will never forget.

I got out through the windshield.
As it turned out a little later – almost at its stop.

It was a kilometer away from the house where I had to buy live mice for my cats.

Looking back at the crushed cars, it was sad that the pretty girl who was standing next to me and touched me with her tender foot, did not go out with me, but joined the others.

Only I survived.

For others, it was the final stop.

My leg hurt, a little from the fact that it was trampled by the boy while still in the salon, a little from the fall.

The mood was not very good, because the rain was getting louder and louder, and I still had to find this damn mouse house.

In the end, in the complete darkness’s arms I found this Hutsulska 9 street, but no one answered the calls.

I did not expect this at all, because two hours ago we agreed to meet at this address.

A dark yard, a dark street, a dark neighborhood.

The mood was greatly relieved.

Only tomorrow, I will find out that the woman who was supposed to sell me the mice was traveling with me in the minibus.

And today I’m wet through and through, disappointed by the long road to nowhere.

I call a taxi and I really want to get into my warm bed, where my favorite cats will snuggle with me, even without live mice for dinner…

04-11-2022
ⓒ Volodymyr Zahnybida