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Post your versions of one event:
A man gets off a bus, stumbles, looks around embarrassed and sees a woman, smiling at him. Post at least two different versions!
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Roland and Sylvia (Version 1)
The bus was late getting to the station but then so was Sylvia, usually.
“Damn!” he muttered under his breath. His pack strap looped around the guard rail, its buckle caught in the gap between it and the seat in front, like a rainbow trout hitting hard on a fly fisherman’s hook.
Off balance, the man managed to pull his pack out of its predicament, but at the bottom of the stairs misjudged the gap and fell hard in front of several dozen people waiting on the platform.
Sylvia was not among them.
Roland felt his cheeks redden as he stumbled his way upright again. His pants were torn at the knee and his elbow ached vaguely.
It was then that he saw her. She wore a red sweater, black jeans and just a hint of her belly showed between. Her eyes followed him, her smile inviting. She held his gaze just a bit longer than she had to, at least in embarrassing circumstances.
—3rd person limited omniscient
Roland and Sylvia (Version 2)
I checked my watch. The bus was late in again! But then so was Sylvia. At least she usually was. God, I wish she’d at least try to get in on time for once.
And, wouldn’t you know it, on my way out of the bus my pack strap just had to get caught on the guard rail. Reminded me of fishing with Uncle Frank, but, in this case, I was the trout wriggling on the end of his line.
I proceeded to half run down the stairs and, of course, tripped as I misjudged the gap and ended up, ass over teakettle, in front of the crowd, which I noted, to my chagrin, didn’t include Sylvia. Figures!
Didn’t notice her at first, but there was this vision of a woman—red sweater, black jeans, just a bit of belly showing—and she was smiling at me. Our eyes met, ooh, and did they linger! Figured it was worth the blush on my cheeks and the hole in the knee of my brand new jeans.
—first person narration
Hurry like a Whirlwind
The bus is moving toward a theater from the countryside to a hustling city. A man, Hurril, wears a sport cap, a varicolored shirt, and a pair of black jeans. He has made his shirt a loosen bow-tie in front of his tummy.
Hurrying like a whirlwind for a blind date in the theater, he is too hasty to step on the ground properly when the bus stopped. It causes him to have a trip, so that he walks by the way of limping and hopping like he is playing hopscotch.
He wishes nobody pays attention on his awkward situation. When he looks around, a gorgeous lady with fancy dress and modern high heel shoes is smiling at him. Then the lady approaches him and asks, “Have you seen a man, Hurril, who may take the same bus with you?” Hurril realizes the lady is the one he is going to date.
He feels embarrassed and suddenly blushes fiery red as if he is desperate to hide himself under the ground.
Roland and Sylvia (Version 3)
The Christmas lights lit up the crane overhanging the crowded bus station. Roland got off the bus from Des Moines, pulled out his cell, checked the time and turned his head to scan the platform.
As he did, the strap of his pack wedged itself into the side of the guardrail. Roland fell, hard, down the stairs and ended up standing in front of the crowd. His jeans were ripped at the knee. To his cheeks came a sudden blush of red, but it faded quickly.
Just then, Roland’s eyes fell on a woman standing across the platform. She wore a red sweater and black jeans, with just a hint of her belly showing. She was smiling at him.
—Objective point of view
The Uptown Bus to Grey Town always smells of sweat and dirty nere-do-well’s. Jeremy can’t wait to get off. Two young girls with piercings on eyebrows, nose and lips keep snickering behind their milky-white hands and shooting sidelong, mascaraed looks at him. Jeremy wonders if he’s left some of his lunch on his face as he pulls the next stop rope.
He gathers his knapsack and starts toward the exit. The smell has become unbearable; An unflushed toilet, an out-house, a cat litter box left unattended for a month. The large, elderly woman in front of him takes forever to get to the exit and the smell seems to be emanating from her in slow, languorous, putrid waves. Jeremy is in such a hurry to get out and away from the stench, he doesn’t see one the two young girls put her leg out in front of him. He sees only the open door and fresh air as the big lady finally clears the exit.
He trips and fly’s through the doors. For a split second he’s airborne. He lands hard on his hands and knees. Reeling in pain and anger he notices two smartly made high heel shoes followed by two shapely legs. Through pain he follows this line of vision up towards a kind, concerned, beautiful face. She smiles awkwardly and helps him to his feet. He’s blushing furiously and stammers a hurried thank-you.
Hi Brad.
Is it possible for me to write a version as one of the other characters in my story? I remember you saying that the characters, among other things will have to stay the same. Just curious as it would make the next four versions a little easier.
Stacey.
Stacey:
Sure, you could do that. Check the posting at the top of the page, too, as I've given a good link to use there. You might want to put your pieces on that post as others have started to do so there. It's the one titled "A Man Gets Off the Bus" Five Versions Exercise.
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