The Haunted Traveler Vol. 2 Issue 1

24
Drive
Alyssa Roseman
The world is broken. I cannot fix it. Not by myself. But I can
start the process.
“Charlie Brown?” The secretary looked up from his clipboard.
“That’s me.” I rose from the uncomfortable red upholstered
chair, using the black plastic armrests to push myself up. It was one of
seven identical chairs in the waiting room.
“Your name’s Charlie Brown?” the secretary asked, raising his
fuzzy gray eyebrows. The gesture made his brow crinkle in such a way
that revealed his true age.
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“Is that your real name?”
I blew out breath in a half chuckle, half snort. “Of course not.”
“Then, what is your real name?”
“I’m looking for a job as a bus driver. Why the hell should you
care about my name?”
The secretary looked at me for a long moment, then said,
“Whatever. Follow me, Mr. Brown.” The last word was a sneer.
He led me down a long hallway, turning left and right seemingly
at random. The secretary was my opposite in appearance – short and
portly where I was tall and lanky. His receding hairline showed strands
of gray, though the main body of his hair shone a youthful chestnut color.
It was probably dyed. Such vanity. I snorted in derision. The secretary
cocked his head to the left and glanced sideways at me, but said nothing.
He turned a corner and I found myself outside a solid wooden