#wage hike

[townpostin]

Wage Hike Issue for Tata Motors Convoy Drivers Raised in Assembly

MLA Saryu Roy highlights low wages for over 2000 Tata Motors convoy drivers in assembly session. Jamshedpur East MLA Saryu Roy raised the issue of wage increase for over 2000 Tata Motors convoy drivers in the assembly on Wednesday. JAMSHEDPUR – In the assembly, MLA Saryu Roy addressed the issue of wage increases for over 2000 Tata Motors convoy drivers. He underscored the necessity of providing…

[sparklehoard]

Aaah. So it's neverending huh.

[nando161mando]

The ‘Victims’ of the minimum wage hikes, according to the ‘trade group’ and Fox ‘News’ are

[questionphings]

Does anyone’s else have an active internal monologue

But who’s also highly reactive and impulsive??

[liminalweirdo]

x

look up “starlight tours” in case you were wondering if Canadian cops are any less shit.

[iclegalnz]

Impact of New Median Wage Increase on NZ Visa Categories in Feb 2024 | Immigration Chambers

Find out how the recent median wage increase in Feb 2024 influences NZ visa categories, visa holders and applicants. Potential immigrants and businesses should be aware of the changes brought about by this wage hike, which extends beyond a single visa category. For more details contact us now to know among those who are affected.

[peiorestbonitasmea]

I hate the idea that just because someone doesn't have kids or mortgages or whatever that they don't deserve better pay. Even more so I hate the idea of disabled people not deserving better pay because someone is taking care of them. A huge fuck you to those who say these things. The only valid reason I see thus far for being against a hike in minimum wage is inflation because there is no cap (to my knowledge) on how much prices can be raised in response. People, in my opinion, deserve a baseline of a living wage and better pay than that should be merit based. Yes even a teenager. My spouse brought up a good point that giving teens better pay can be helpful for avoiding student loans and better for the economy in the long run.

[ravenmold]

Living somewhere pretty is such a waste honestly. Like you drive to the supermarket and you pass by mountains and vineyards and a freakin river and the sunlight through the leaves on the trees colour them such a startling vibrant green and everything inside you CLENCHES because you NEED to be there, you NEED to frolic around in the grasslands and picnic by the densely wooded riverside, but back home you have 7 loads of waiting laundry and two weeks' worth of work to do in one afternoon and you don't even have the spare money to go get a coffee at a new place for an hour. Frankly, living somewhere nasty might be better for my mental health - at least I won't be getting frequent glimpses of the life I'm missing.

[townpostin]

Tata Steel Signs Wage Revision Agreement for Jharia, West Bokaro

7-year settlement includes pay hikes, allowance revisions for over 4,000 workers The agreement, effective from July 2022 to June 2029, covers wage revisions and benefits for colliery workers in Jharia and West Bokaro. JAMSHEDPUR – Tata Steel has inked a fresh wage revision pact with the Rashtriya Colliery Mazdoor Union for employees at its Jharia and West Bokaro collieries. The memorandum of…

[javen-tiger]

classic sda-ass enterprise agreement. worst union on earth fr.

[herpderpingest]

More than anything, I just want a healthcare system that works for everyone and doesn't ruin lives. We've got a whole lot of problems in the US (/worldwide) but not having to worry about affording to not die, or their healthcare being tied to their current employment would free up so many people to live how they want to.

[beansnpeets]

Thinking about human behaviour compared to animal behaviour again.

It's funny to hear people (the older gens) complaining that "kids these days are lazy, they don't wanna work, etc." What do we get for busting our asses? There is no reward. Many will never own homes. Many are unemployed, trying to find work, and nobody will hire them because they don't have a million years experience and a masters degree OR they want people to work for minimum wage??? People are giving up because there is no reward. Why would we do all this for nothing?

Same as a dog that won't recall when you haven't reinforced it with a reward. Your dog isn't going to do what you tell it to if there is no incentive. No, your dog SHOULDN'T listen just because you're boss and it should respect you. That isn't how it works. They don't think that way. And honestly neither do people.

When we went hiking Sprocket wasn't always taking treats gently from me when I recalled her or she checked in and I rewarded and my one friend told me to stop giving her treats. I told him I won't work for free so why should she. And he said "I do things for free all the time because I want to do them," and I didn't say it then, but I wish I had, but if you like doing it, that's the incentive. It's a self-rewarding behaviour. Just like anything else a dog does, like chasing a squirrel or sniffing things or getting into the trash. Heeling instead of going off to sniff stuff or recalling off of something they want to chase is something you have to reinforce. You have to give them something better so they make the choice you want them to make. They won't make it just because they *respect* you. They won't willingly recall off of exciting prey out of RESPECT. You need to give them a tangible reward for that. You cannot possibly expect your dog to listen just because and then punish them for disobeying you.

Yeah, Sprocket bit my fingers a couple times. The one time pretty hard. But she was excited. She knows how to take gently and I reminded her and she tried very hard to be gentle most of the time. I wasn't going to stop rewarding her for checking in with me and recalling while we were off leash hiking in the woods. I want her to know that coming back to me is good and in the event of an emergency I would like her to not blow me off.

[moneyalphanews]

Autumn Statement- Millions to get pay rise as living wage is hiked to more than £10 an hour, Hunt confirms

Autumn Statement- Millions to get pay rise as living wage is hiked to more than £10 an hour, Hunt confirms

JEREMY Hunt confirmed a boost to the national living wage beginning next April.The Chancellor revealed plans for a 10% hike, which will see the threshold rise from £9.50 to £10.42 an hour. Read Full Text

[harunayuuka2060]

Chubby MC: *went to visit Coral Sea to give Jade and Floyd's birthday presents*

Azul: You're here. I thought you would try making excuses again.

Chubby MC: I was busy. And I can't breathe underwater.

Azul: I've been sending you potions to help you with that.

Chubby MC: Hm.

Azul: ...

Azul: *chuckles*

Azul: The twins are going to be happy to see you after not getting in touch for eight years.

Chubby MC: Sure.

Azul: ...

Azul: Is there something wrong?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: To be honest, I'm not thrilled to meet anybody from NRC.

Azul: Why is that?

Chubby MC: Imagine. Eight years and I still look like this. *sigh* Tch. I've been airing out my insecurities. I'll keep quiet now.

Azul: ...

Azul: So, what did you get for Floyd and Jade?

Chubby MC: Something's within my budget.

Azul: *chuckles* Cheapskate.

Chubby MC: *frowns*

Chubby MC: I'm just a minimum wage earner, you capitalist.

Azul: *laughs*

Floyd: Beluga-chan~! *squeezes them*

Chubby MC: Don't squeeze the air out of me!

Floyd: But I missed you so much~

Chubby MC: Yeah! Yeah! I get the message! Release me now!

Floyd: Hehe~ Okay~.

Chubby MC: *takes a deep breath in*

Floyd: So~ What's my present~?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: I got you this. *hands him a squishy hamster toy*

Floyd: Hehe~

Floyd: Hehehehehe~! So cuuuutee~!!!

Chubby MC: I made sure it's water proof.

Floyd: *hugs them* Thank you, Beluga-chan~!

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: *smiles* You're welcome.

Jade: *wants to approach MC but the other guests are blocking him*

The guests: Happy birthday, Jade. You're really a grown up now.

Jade: *smiles* Thank you.

The guests: Have you considered getting married?

Jade: ...

Jade: *subtle smirk* Yes.

The guests: *smiling in relief*

Chubby MC: Looks like Jade is busy.

Azul: Why not approach him?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: No. I'll just leave my present for him with Floyd.

Chubby MC: Also, I think the effect of your potion is enough to get me back to the surface.

Azul: I asked you to bring three vials.

Chubby MC: Your message was too long. I didn't bother to read all of it.

Azul: You-

Chubby MC: Bye now.

Azul: ...

Azul: *sigh* Be careful on your way home.

Floyd: Here's Beluga-chan's present for you~.

Jade: *smiles* I like it. *MC bought him a pair of hiking boots as a gift*

Floyd: But you know, why you're so slow?

Jade: I beg to differ, Floyd.

Jade: There's time for everything.

Floyd: You think~? Because I'm guessing Beluga-chan doesn't even remember your promise~.

Jade: They do, otherwise, why would they remain single?

Floyd: *laughs*

Floyd: You're so full of yourself sometimes, Jade~.

Jade: You want to be their brother-in-law, right, Floyd? So I ask you to support me on this. *smiles*

[suashii]

— 𝒸𝑜𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓃 ౨ৎ

miya atsumu x f!reader. 3.1k wc. ﾉ all characters are 21+ ﾉ nsfw ( MDNI! ) ﾉ bartender!atsumu ﾉ college au ﾉ dubcon ( via alcohol consumption ) ﾉ mentions of f!masturbation ﾉ fingering ﾉ cunnilingus ﾉ protected sex ( but mentions of creampie ) ﾉ repost from an old blog!

bartender!atsumu who only picked up the job because he thought the extra cash would be nice—after all, tuition is expensive. and it’s easy—making tips that is. he’s not ashamed to admit that ladies and men alike are naturally drawn to him. all he has to do to ensure that the women who frequent the establishment leave behind a generous amount of cash is send them a couple of flirty winks and tell ‘em how pretty their makeup is. it’s just as easy with his male patrons; nod along and mumble a “yeah man” every now and then and he’s sure to go home with more than he makes in his hourly wage for the night. he never puts too much thought into his behavior or lets his attention linger on any certain person for too long, that is, until you come along.

bartender!atsumu who’s rendered speechless when he turns around to tend to your call. the glass he’s working to dry off nearly slips from his hold before he regains his composure. it’s silly—letting down his guard like that, and so easily, too—but anyone would if they found themselves in his position. even under the dim lights, he can tell that you’re beautiful. there’s a playful sparkle in your eye and he can’t help but hone in on the glossy lip you have pulled between your teeth. he has to remind himself where he is and what he’s meant to be doing. a charming smile quickly finds its way to his face as he slings the cloth over his shoulder and asks what he can get for you.

bartender!atsumu who pulls out all of his best tricks to leave a lasting impression on you. sure, he’ll show off every now and then for other customers, but it’s always mindless—muscle memory. with you on the other side of the counter, he feels the need to make an active effort in his display of flair. spinning and flipping bottles by the neck and tossing ice cubes from one mixer to another warrants cheers from patrons across the bar. throughout all of it, not a single drop of liquid hits the surface between you. when he slides you the product of his labor—the well-crafted cosmopolitan—you clap for the little show he put on just for you. it’s hard to ignore his erratic heartbeat and the way the tips of his ears heat up at your praise. he’s almost disappointed when you don’t stick around at the bar, taking the drink and wandering off to regroup with your friends. he’s almost disappointed because before you part ways, you turn around and smile at him—a smile he knows he’ll never be able to forget.

bartender!atsumu who spends the majority of his shift thinking about how much he wants to hike up that pretty dress of yours—not that it needs to be tugged up significantly higher; it’s already quite short as is. it makes him wonder who you’re trying to look so sexy for. he’s just some employee at the club you frequent but embers of irritation simmer from within at the thought of you dressing up for anyone else but him. he’s able to reel himself back in—escape from the grasp of the green-eyed monster—by finding solace in other thoughts like what kind of panties you have hidden beneath the skimpy fabric. are you wearing any at all? it takes the impatient snapping from an annoyed customer who has been trying to get his attention for atsumu to snap out of it, but his mind always wanders back to you.

bartender!atsumu who quickly learns to look forward to weekends when he knows he’ll be able to see you. it’s a shame that he can only expect you on the most lively days when he’s the busiest, but despite his hectic workload, he still finds time to steal fleeting glances of you dancing with your friends. he’s shocked when he looks up to find you and you’re already staring back at him. did you feel his gaze on you? he thought he was being subtle but you seem to have caught on quickly. and instead of ignoring him, instead of spinning around falling back into the rhythm of the music, you stray from the bunch, pushing past the sea of sweaty bodies until you’re sliding onto the stool right in front of him. you order your usual cosmopolitan and sit back while he prepares it. this time is different from the others, though, because this time, you stay.

bartender!atsumu who uses the dumb party trick he perfected over multiple frat parties to impress you—cherry stem tying. it’s silly and childish but when you ask him if he could, he can’t come up with a valid reason not to show you. and maybe he shouldn’t be using bar inventory for personal affairs—he never has in the past—but you seem to draw out a side of him that he’s unfamiliar with, one where he hangs on your every word. feeling your intent gaze on his lips as he works his tongue to loop the thin stalk around itself is nearly enough to make him lose focus—fumble. when he sticks his tongue out the reveal the tight knot, you let out an exaggerated gasp; almost as if he’d been lying when he told you he could do it easily. he smirks, you know what they say about it; anyone who can is surely a good kisser. nothing could have prepared him for your response; maybe i should test to see if it’s true myself.

bartender!atsumu who thinks that he’s never felt more frustrated in his life than he does at this very moment. and sure, maybe he shouldn’t be openly flirting with patrons while on the clock, but is the world truly cruel enough to cut your interaction short just before he’s able to see if you’re bluffing? it’s unfair to blame the unfortunate turn of events on the world when the real culprit is standing right beside you. he figures it must be one of your friends, though, he can’t be sure considering you’re the only face he can pick out in a crowd. one thing he is 100% sure about is that the girl clinging onto your arm and telling you that she’s ready to go is a major cockblock. he has no right to feel as annoyed as he does when you give in to the woman’s request, pulling out your purse to pay the tab. the feeling doesn’t fade when you lay out the amount you owe and more because he doesn’t want money from you, he wants something else. but, to his surprise, the crisp bills aren’t the only thing you leave for him on the counter; a napkin soaked through with ink scrawling out a sequence of ten numbers and a messy heart accompanies the cash. he looks up to meet your eye and before your friend drags you away, you’re able to disclose your intentions; text me when your shift is over.

bartender!atsumu who thanks his lucky stars that his coworker who was scheduled to take care of closing shows up on time. he’s never been more eager to ditch his waist apron and get from behind the counter. ideally, he’d stop at home to freshen up, to wash off the sticking scent of liquor and sweat. but when he shoots you the message that he’s free for the night and you respond by sending him an address, making a detour to his place is the last thing he wants to do. and he thinks, what’s the point if he’s going to end up needing another shower later anyway? so instead of making a left a the light that would take him home, he follows the directions the gps spouts and turns right.

bartender!atsumu who feels like his heart might just beat out of his chest as he raps his knuckles against your door. he’s not usually so self-conscious before hook-ups but something about you makes him nervous. and not in a negative sense, no, not at all. it’s difficult to describe—what’s different about this time compared to the others, but a nagging thought in the back of his head tells him that he knows exactly what it is. something sets you apart from the others and deep down, he knows that at some point, lust has grown from an inkling of something more.

bartender!atsumu who certainly doesn’t expect to see you in the same dress from earlier when you finally swing the door open. he swallows the lump in his throat to keep from gaping. it’s pathetic, he thinks, being so out of sorts when he’d seen you in that very outfit only a couple of hours ago but the light emanating throughout your living room was much brighter than those in the club—he can see much more now. he can see the way the color of the fabric compliments your skin. he can see that the dress is abundantly tighter than he thought—it hugs the curves of your hips and contours your breasts. he would have ogled your body longer if it wasn’t for your arm on his bicep, ushering him into your apartment. it’s embarrassing how that little touch can cause his blood to rush south and leave his pants feeling uncomfortably tight.

bartender!atsumu who can’t hide how stunned he is at the fact that your lips are touching his. they’re soft, even softer than they look. once he’s over his initial shock, his hands find their way to your waist and he kisses you back. it’s dizzying and he wants to blame it on the lingering taste of vodka and cranberry but he knows that’s not it—you’re intoxicating. the slow pace of the kiss shifts when your tongue runs along his lower lip in a plea for him to let you in. he obeys, parting his lips. your tongue swirls and dances with his, pressing so hard into his mouth that your teeth nearly clash against his. he’s lightheaded and his brain is telling him he needs air but all he thinks he needs right now is you. he has to physically refrain himself from whimpering when you pull away, a string of saliva following you. it breaks when you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes so that your mouth is right beside his ear. the warmth of your breath tickles and he would have flinched if it wasn’t for the single word you whispered: bedroom.

bartender!atsumu who finally, finally gets to do what he’s been thinking about for the past few weeks. your restlessness is palpable as he slowly unzips your dress. he pushes the straps aside and presses a light kiss to each of your shoulders before gripping either side of the dress, tugging it down to reveal your tits. he watches as your nipples pebble at the exposure to the cool air. he’s tempted to roll one between his fingers, to pop one in his mouth, but he doesn’t. he has more pressing matters to attend to. your dress drags lower and lower, displaying more and more skin with each yank. he’s kneeling now, face-to-face with your crotch as he continues to pull the dress down your body. the fabric hits the floor and he almost laughs to himself—you weren’t wearing any panties.

bartender!atsumu who gently nudges you back so that you’re lying comfortably on the bed. he pushes your knees apart so he can get a good look at you. and if you had been wearing panties, you surely would have soaked through them. had you been touching yourself before he arrived? were you so needy that you couldn’t wait for him? or maybe the heated kiss from down the hall was enough to turn you on to the point of nearly dripping. regardless of what had gotten you so wet, he sucks in a breath at the sight. his fingers draw up to spread your glistening lips apart and a thin layer of your essence is left behind on them. everything in him is telling him to stick the fingers in his mouth so he could get a taste but he holds back. if he’s going to taste you, he has to do so properly.

bartender!atsumu who can’t help but moan into your sex when his tongue flattens and runs up the slit, only stopping when he meets the nub of nerves at your apex. he flicks it with his tongue and huffs out a short laugh at the surprised gasp that slips past your lips. your reaction encourages him to continue and he does until he catches sight of your hole clenching around nothing. he’s not quite ready to come up from between your legs but he isn’t so inhumane that he’d leave you hanging. one of his hands abandons its place on your thigh, two fingers collecting your slick before pushing into your gummy walls. 

it’s lewd—the sound that fills the room as his fingers rhythmically pump in and out of you, his mouth latched and sucking on your clit. when you begin to squirm and whimper, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm, his tongue and fingers trade places. he’d much rather feel you come in his mouth. his wet muscle delves into your dripping cunt while his thumb presses circles against the sensitive nub. your legs tighten around his head and your hands frantically tug at his hair as you continue to climb the stairs to your climax. the taut coil in your tummy finally snaps, drawing a shaky gasp from your throat. your back arches as pleasure washes over you, the man between your thighs still languidly lapping at your folds.

bartender!atsumu who pulls himself away from your cunt to reveal the mess of spit and your release left behind on the lower half of his face. you’re still lying on your back when you speak up, telling him you’d like to return the favor. and while the thought of you on your knees, eyes wide and peering up at him as your lips work his cock is one that’s undeniably enticing, the man doesn’t think he can wait any longer. and you don’t explicitly say so, but he’s sure that neither his tongue nor his fingers are enough to satiate you. 

undressing is a blur that comes and goes quickly—his shirt gets tossed somewhere on the floor and his belt doesn’t make it out of the loops before his slacks and boxers are pushed down to and off his feet. his heavy, hard cock slaps against his stomach the moment it’s freed from its confines. the tip is a rosy shade of red and leaking with precum. you must have busied yourself while he was ridding himself of his clothes because when he looks up to ask whether you have protection, you’re already holding a small, shiny foil square out to him. he accepts the condom, carefully tearing open the foil with his teeth. he gives himself a few swift strokes before sheathing his length with the rubber and sending you a look that silently asks for confirmation.

bartender!atsumu who pushes himself past your tight ring of muscles, slowly, inch by inch with a low groan, his hold tensing on your waist the deeper he reaches. you whine at the stretch—he makes you feel so full, stuffed to the brink. his generosity doesn’t go unnoticed—stilling so you can adjust to his size—but you need more and you tell him so by wriggling restlessly. he smiles at your impatience, caressing your sides with his thumbs before withdrawing, only to forcefully drive into you. the moan you let out is near-pornographic and you have no time to recover from the particularly powerful thrust before he’s setting an unrelenting tempo. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough and even though you’re too fucked out to decipher what you’re saying, you’re sure the indecipherable babbles are begs for more. and as much as he’d like to comply, rutting his hips comes as a difficult task when your walls are clenching around him so tightly. 

so, instead, he settles for bringing a thumb down to your swollen clit, pressing harsh circles against the sensitive bud. the extra stimulation sends you over the edge, your eyes rolling back and tremors racking throughout your body as a result of your orgasm. and he almost comes with you, his hips desperately rocking into you as he chases his high. his thrusts are sloppy and rushed, hushed moans accompanying the lewd squelching that echoes throughout the room. it only takes a few more deep plunges before he’s stilling and sucking in a sharp breath, his seed spilling into the condom.

bartender!atsumu who struggles to catch his breath as he pulls his softened cock out of you. it’s a shame, really, seeing his cum pooled in a condom instead of oozing out of you. thoughts of what it would be like to fuck you raw invade his mind. what would it feel to be swallowed by your warmth, to feel your arousal soaking his length? how much better would your uncontrollable spasms feel without the protective barrier between you? would you be able to take it if he decided to fuck his cum back into you until he came again? the image alone is fuel that goes straight to his cock, his erection hardening once more. despite wanting nothing more than to find the answer to all of his questions, he’s content tying up the rubber and disposing of it in the waste bin beside your bed. he isn’t so satisfied at the realization that it’s time for him to leave.

bartender!atsumu who forces himself to bury the giddy feeling that threatens to show on his face when you reach out for him and tell him he can stay. he’s had a long night, you explain; where’s the harm in letting him sleep over? and he knows that that’s probably all you mean by it, but he can’t help but feel as though maybe, just maybe, this is a step in the right direction. maybe that nagging thought from before wasn’t so far off, maybe you want him as much as he wants you.

bartender!atsumu who has no idea that you’ve already saved his number in your phone with every intention of seeing him again.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Height?” The officer taps the nib on his notepad. 

“Ugh, tall. Er,” you keep your hand on your head. It still throbs. “Um, six foot something? He had to be bigger.” 

“Right,” he squints. “Blond, blue eyes, and a scar. Dressed in all black...” he reads it over. “And he didn’t say anything?” 

“No, sir, I told you. Did you check with security? There's cameras--” 

“Nothing there. Checked all the footage. Some glitch. Guy’s not sure. Not his problem, I guess. Paid minimum wage to sit in a room,” he scoffs. “We can file the report but we can’t do much else. No footage, no proof--” 

“No proof? Look at my head. He ripped my hair out!” You whine. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen worse. Should count yourself lucky he left you alive,” he says. 

You shake your head and drop your arm, “uh... thanks, I guess.” 

“Look,” he exhales. “I really don’t have much to go on but this guy sniffs around again, call. File another report.” 

“Right,” you agree glumly. “Thank you, officer.” 

He shrugs, “have a good night. You want me to stick around while you lock up.” 

“It’s fine, I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.” 

You sniff and turn around. You’re not surprised by his indifference or his answers. You have friends who had men pounding on their doors and the same reaction. You saw police arresting drunk girls instead of the guys who cornered them in the bathroom. There isn’t much anyone can do, it seems. Especially not you. 

You go through the closing list. You know it by rote but that night, you’re uncertain. You check the clipboard that hangs behind the counter. You’re fractured. The whole world feels like it’s strewn before you. Nothing fits together. You feel like you’re disconnected from your own body. 

God, your head hurts. 

You stop and open up the front camera on your phone. You look at the bald patch again. Near the back. You can’t really see it head on but it’s there. Or not. He just... did that? He took a part of you. 

You close your phone and put it in your pocket. You pull on your jacket and hike your bag onto your shoulders. As you do, the Pom Pom falls onto the floor. You tossed it on top but didn’t hook it on. You pick it up, quivering. That man... did he find it or take it? 

You squeeze it and grab the keys from the hook. You pull the gate across the store front and lock it. You turn to face the empty mall. 

The idea of going out into the dark and waiting for the bus is the same as scaling a mountain with your bare hands. You make yourself move. The longer you wait, the more likely you’ll miss it.  

Your steps echo around you. You flinch and glance over your shoulders, back and forth, even spinning to make sure you’re alone. 

How are you supposed to do this? After what he did to you. Did he just see you on the bus and decide to mess with you? How did he track you to the store? You had your jacket on, he couldn’t see your name tag or uniform. You didn’t have your badge out. 

You can’t figure any of it out. Would it matter if you could. 

You slow down as you approach the doors. You look out and see the bright signs for the businesses housed in the mall and the other plazas close by, headlights shining along the street. You push through the first door and stand in the vestibule. 

You still have the fluffy pom pom in your hand. You unhook your bag from one shoulder and hook it on. You trade the store keys for your house keys and poke one out between your fingers. You’re on your own. 

You walk out into the night. You don’t stop. You almost jog across the lot out to the bus stop by the road. You duck into the shelter, the lights keeping you safe in their glow. Or so you hope. 

The bus pulls up only a few minutes after. Your relief flows out of your chest as you scan your pass. You find a seat at the back and sit. You want to see everyone else. 

The tires grind the gravel and veer back onto the road. They slow again at the next stop around the corner. You watch the passenger turn and you know him in an instant. He stalks down the center of the bus and climbs the steps up to the back level. He does just as he did that morning. 

He sits beside you. You can’t move or speak. You can’t believe it. 

He must know that no one else cares. He’s counting on it. You’re breathless as you shake, your ribs wracked as adrenaline burns through you. 

“Why?” You quaver weakly. He doesn’t answer. You lean away from him and touch your head, grazing your tender scalp. “Please, why me?”  

Still nothing. 

“Why are you doing this?” You whimper. 

He closes his eyes and lifts his chin. His hand moves from his leg onto yours and he squeezes. You tremble as his fingertips dig into your flesh. 

“Please, stop!” You cry out and slap his hand. 

No reaction. What is wrong with him? You wriggle and look at your other hand; the key poking out from your fist. You bring it down towards his hand but he’s fast. He retracts his touch and the key sinks into your thigh muscle. You screech, and he reaches across to tug the cord. 

“What’s going on back there?” The driver hollers back as he stops. 

The man stands and marches away. He doesn’t answer the driver or look back. He steps off the bus and you watch him through the window. He almost fades into the dark as he delves into the shadows of the buildings.  

“Knock it off,” the driver warns as he puts his foot on the pedal. 

You puff between your teeth and look around at the other passengers; deafened by headphones and ear buds, engrossed in their screens and pages. There’s at least ten other riders yet you’re all alone. 

You look down. You quaking as you let go of the key and it sticks out of your leg. You cringe and grasp it as tight as you can. You hold your breath as you rip it out. Argh.  

That officer was right. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse.