Nelly and the Last Thirty Seconds
Nelly reached the bus stop twenty minutes early. She checked the timetable, her bag, and the timetable again. Three more of her trailed behind, still having thoughts she had already tried to finish.
In the bodega window, a television fish opened an empty briefcase. He wore sunglasses and six watches. Television in Schnerdville showed only infomercials. This one was selling Snake Sauce. An angry creature said Nelly had thirty seconds to prepare for what might happen next.
Nelly did not know what might happen next. That was already one of her problems. She watched the timer reach three, then jump back to thirty. “It’s started again,” she said to herself. She kept watching anyway.
Hobart arrived with a warm snack. “Our bus comes in seven minutes,” Nelly told him. “What does the sauce do?” Hobart asked, looking at the television. “They haven’t said,” Nelly replied. The fish explained the price. The angry creature explained that waiting would be a terrible mistake.
“You can’t trust a fish,” Hobart said. Nelly glanced down the road. Jim and Bob were waiting at the next stop. “Are they talking about every fish?” Nelly asked Hobart. “I mean that one,” Hobart replied, pointing at the television. Nelly could not remember whether that was what he had said.
The bus came while Hobart was checking how much sauce came in a bottle. Nelly hurried aboard. “Are you coming?” she called to Hobart. “One second,” Hobart called back. The doors closed. Nelly sat down alone with the piece of snack Hobart had given her. It was cold now.
At the next stop, Jim and Bob got on, arguing about six watches they had ordered. Nelly checked her bag. She had written down the Snake Sauce number. She knew the timer was silly. She had not crossed the number out.
