Urban Fantasy Microfiction
Airhoof steered through traffic with the ease of long practice, adjusting the shape of her seat with a thought. It obligingly gave her more back support, yellow sand shifting quietly, while she focused on the road. A couple smaller vehicles up ahead were edging into her lane. She could have slowed or honked, but instead she checked that the central aisle of her sandworm bus was clear. It didn’t take much of a turn of her head to be sure; a minotaur’s range of vision was to be respected. One of the many reasons she was the best at her job.
When she was certain that no passengers were in the way, she instructed the sandworm to narrow, bringing the seats closer to each other and letting the bus pass without so much as grazing a fender. None of the passengers commented.
Airhoof widened the bus again when the road was clear, just in time to glide to a halt at the next bus stop. Right on time.
Passengers walked down the newly restored aisle and out to the sidewalk. Some even said polite goodbyes.
Then a new passenger got on, and he wasn’t polite.
“This bus is falling apart! Look at that! You should offer free rides to make up for the inconvenience.” The mysterious figure in the cloak held up a handful of speckled grains, which had theoretically come off when he grasped the railing.
In response, Airhoof stood and stared him down, fists on hips and muscular arms flexing. The little man was still on the top step, and significantly shorter. The face he was trying to hide under his hood looked like he was only now beginning to realize this.
“That sand is the wrong color to come from my bus,” Airhoof declared. “Apologize and pay the fare or get kicked to the curb.” She adopted a battle stance while more than one passenger murmured in excitement.
Disappointingly, the troublemaker dropped the sand with a barely audible comment about wanting to walk anyway. He stepped back off the bus without any new hoofprints in his chest.
“Smart choice,” Airhoof told him. With a flick of her wrist, she undulated the steps to fling his impostor sand at him.
While the jerk exclaimed and flinched away, Airhoof closed the doors and sat back down. There were no other passengers waiting to board.
“Everybody in your seats; we’re taking off,” she announced. It wasn’t really necessary, since she could see that the well-behaved passengers were ready, but it was only polite. As befitted the best bus driver in the City.
Her bus accelerated away from the curb in a hiss of sand, leaving the troublemaker to brush his cloak clean and regret trying to lie to a minotaur.
~~~
Happy day seven of February Fiction Fight! This is a snippet from one of my characters destined for a very cool anthology that got stalled before making it off the ground. I live in hope that it will happen someday. In the meantime, this is Airhoof! She's great.