Post 11

It had been exactly 3 hours since Mr. Orange had left. Otis had all his things backed in his meager plaid suitcase. He wore his old leather jacket. His mind wandered. The nostalgic mist rose away from his mind. He thought of his possibilities. The things he could do. He could move Italy and see the homeland. He could move to Australia and start a new life. Looking at his watch and seeing he had 1 hour left he opened his apartment door. He glanced back into his old, bland apartment. It looked the same as when he first got there. It felt good to leave. As he walked down the hallway and out the front door, he thought about the mysterious Mr. Orange. How did Mr. Orange know exactly what he needed? It made him worry that someone was watching him the whole time. He walked to Bus Station 17, which turned out to be practically empty. He bought a ticket and waited. By then, his worries had drifted away. He was thankful for someone to give him a push. When the bus arrived, he was the only one to get on. The bus drove away and Otis got comfortable in his seat. It new life was beginning.