Little Red Riding Hood 4/8

I looked out at the rain streaked world trying to ignore him. His chuntering. How he liked my bangles. How they'd make a nice sound as my arm moved. He breathed through his nose. Not a snort. But a snuffle of excitement. Like a dog catching scent of his ball.

I wasn't his plaything.

My stop got nearer and I realised with a lurch I'd need to ask him to move. To get up. I turned to face him. Look into those small eyes behind dirt fogged glasses. To ask.

"Please. Can I get by?

This is my stop.

Please?"