Commuter Life The bus arrived. Everyone ran forward towards the doors as they opened. I managed to dive to the front. I was on board. Safe. People piled on behind me. Then I heard the thud. We all heard it. A dull slamming against the side of the bus.
"Don't move the bus." Someone shouted.
"Is he dead?" A school girl shouted.
I looked out of window. A crowd had gathered.
On the edge of the kerb lay an old man in a brown coat. He was unconcious. I immediately reached for my mobile phone but three people in the crowd outside the bus had were already dialling.
"Don't move the bus." Someone else said. Then another eventually we became a choir.
This bus lurched forward.
"Don't move!" I screamed angrily.
"I'm just going forward a bit," growled the driver angrily.
"But he's under the bus!" Someone shouted from outside.
"They shouldn't move him." I muttered.
They moved him off the kerb, onto the pavement. A tall man was hanging out of the open door of the bus checking that the bus was free to move.
"He's clear."
Someone else shouted it.
"OK I hard you the first time!" The driver pushed the bus forward out of the way and on our journey.
"He slipped on the step," a pensioner explained, "and 'it his head on the bus. I think he's dead."
As the bus turned the corner, no one seemed to think more about it.

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