As I was riding on a city bus, I became aware of the woman (about 30 years old) sitting next to me on my left. She had curly black hair and a rather prominent nose. She was attractive but not beautiful. We exchanged a few words and she informed me that she was on her way to a wedding. She added, "You can go, too."

Not only I, but a woman sitting directly in front of me was surprised by the invitation. The woman in front of me turned and made a snide remark about how it was improper for a woman to ask a man she had just met to go somewhere with her, much less a wedding. But I appreciated the invitation and I defended the woman sitting next to me; I would like to go to the wedding. However, I pointed out to her that I was dressed in a purple tee shirt, hardly appropriate for a wedding. The woman said it didn't matter, that I could go just as I was. After reflection, I told her I would be interested in going, but first I would need to go home and change clothes. I told her she could go home with me. I envisioned home as the Gay Street House.

As we had been talking, the bus had come to a stop and most of the passengers had gotten off; only about ten of us were still on the bus. I became a bit alarmed when I noticed that the driver of the bus had also gotten off. I suspected he had simply stepped off to go into a neighboring building for a moment, but suddenly the bus started rolling forward. We were sitting on a slight incline and the bus was headed toward the yard of a house. First, we went down to the bottom of the incline, then back up toward the yard. Before reaching the yard, the bus stopped and started moving backward. Again the bus reached the bottom of the incline, but instead of returning to our original position, the bus backed into a little alley, and then was ready to start rolling forward again. This time I saw that we would be going down a steep hill.

I jumped up and hollered to the others that we had to get off the bus now before it picked up speed. I ran to the front door and jumped out, but no one else moved. Everyone else stayed on the bus; I couldn't understand why. I watched in shock as the bus began picking up speed down the alley. As the bus approached a cross street, several cars speed across the intersection. The bus entered into the cross street, and suddenly a black car came speeding through the intersection and smashed right into the side of the bus, propelling the bus sideways. Then a black pickup truck smashed into the side of the bus.

I ran up to the crash site. A pretty blonde-haired woman was slumped over the wheel of the pickup truck. She looked as if she were unconscious. I was uncertain I should try to help her. If she were badly injured, trying to move her might be unwise. I should probably wait for emergency medical personnel to arrive.

I could hear voices of people coming down the alley from the direction which I had run. I turned and saw the bus driver (about 50 years old) hurrying toward me. He was a plump fellow, dressed in a brown uniform. He was bemoaning his stupidity.