“I wanna know what’s your fantasy.” Played though his speakers as he drove. For some reason this radio station was playing Ludacris and his old songs. This was probably the last time he really listened to Ludacris. But he liked that about the radio, that some times it would play songs that would un earth something from the past.
He doesn’t really have a single memory, often it does feel that when he thinks that far back the memories sort of blend together to just a time or an era. Anyways his era was when he still rode the bus when he was a kid. His bus driver a large woman very scary always wore sunglasses blasted music from a little speak near her. Usually the bus was just full of people talk kids yelling but if you sat near the front that’s what you’d hear. It must have been a CD she had burned or something but it was always Ludacris always. No matter if it was hot or cold or rainy or sunny. He often sat in the front of the bus not really knowing the lyrics, but singing it under his breath.
He doesn’t really have a single memory, often it does feel that when he thinks that far back the memories sort of blend together to just a time or an era. Anyways his era was when he still rode the bus when he was a kid. His bus driver a large woman very scary always wore sunglasses blasted music from a little speak near her. Usually the bus was just full of people talk kids yelling but if you sat near the front that’s what you’d hear. It must have been a CD she had burned or something but it was always Ludacris always. No matter if it was hot or cold or rainy or sunny. He often sat in the front of the bus not really knowing the lyrics, but singing it under his breath.