Giving flight to fancy

You take a seat on the bus, putting your bag down next to you. Hoping against hope that no one wants to sit there. You look around, and there aren't too many people there. Good, you say to yourself. You notice a small box wrapped in a pink polythene bag. Hmm, you wonder, who could've left that there?

Your mind flashes to the warnings you've heard & seen - "Please report any unattended bags or suspicious behaviour to the bus driver." Snorting at the thought of the box being potentially dangerous, you return to your world of the book and the world outside. It's troubling you, still. You can't focus entirely on what's written in the book, the poetic lines into which you want to escape. The music blaring in your ears doesn't help either. You're still vaguely uneasy about the box; and still in doubt whether to cause a panic by telling the bus driver.

But you know what he doesn't; a box, wrapped in pink plastic, that could be dangerous. You're almost convinced of it - what else could it be, you ask yourself?

You allow your imagination to take flight. Suspicions that you, consciously, would have never entertained, become more and more realistic and plausible. As the bus speeds on, you feel disconnected from the outside world, choosing to focus solely within.

Everyone becomes a suspect - the old couple that are whispering in the seat in front of you, the blue-eyed boy that throws smouldering looks at each new rider, the middle-aged, smartly-dressed gentleman taking the seat behind you. Your focus, however, remains on the box. Your eyes, though drawn momentarily to the pretty seventeen year-old girl whose halter you long to remove, return to the box. Even the driver is not above suspicion. As he calls out each new destination, you think you can hear a sinister note enter his voice.

Dragging your eyes away from the girl's torso, unwillingly, you pan the surroundings, hoping to catch a glimmer of malice, an evil laugh or a malevolent grin from your co-passengers. A new worry arises - is it just one? Are they all working together? Are you the only one unaware of what is happening? Your senses strain to catch hints of collaboration - a tiny nod of acknowledgement, a shrug of the shoulders or a yawn; they could all be secret signals. Why, even the driver's tone changes as he announces the stops - could this be a call to arms?

(based on this morning's bus commute to work - I'm not sure whether to continue. I don't have any idea how to, either.)