Icy Dead People

A girl named hannah boarded the bus, the number 12. Paying his fare with twelve coins he sat on the twelth seat from the front and paid no attention to the twelve people, eyes wide and staring, waiting for his next move like rats in a plague. Coughing twice, he took out the day's paper, the news-paper, and scanned the job section with a badly chewed biro (red ink, black lid), circling each vacancy consisting of 36 characters or less. Four more stops passed, he engaged the bell and disembarked. Stepping out on to the pavement he took one left and seven paces and sat down. At that moment his non-progress was halted by the ring of his cellphone. 'Hello,' he said, 'A girl named hannah speaking, how may I help?' For a moment all that could be heard was a faint scratching noise, then 'Son?' replied the voice, which turned out to belong to his paternally estranged father lost presumed drowned in a tragic boating accident during the Namibian War of Independence. Briefly, a girl named hannah considered that this was the first time in 42 years he had heard this parental voice. Then he hung up. At that moment a child walked by in blue shorts and white socks, chocolate spilt on his fresh-pressed shirt. The parent or guardian accompanying this boy stopped for pause to take in the sight of an eye-window display. The young one, a boy named snow, so precariously poised as he was to the hero of our story, felt a slight tickle in his nostril. Causing his pausing from the consumption of a chocolate cone, a sneeze cast itself forth, accompanied by the accumulated mucus derived from Snow's large intake of lactose. A sumptious splash of oral ejaculation hit a girl named hannah full in the face, nestling into the crows feet of his eyes. Carefully he removed his pocket handkerchief, freshly ironed that very morning for such an occasion, and wiped his crevices. Deciding it was time to make a stand, he stood and took 48 paces forward, paused, and stepped out in front of a bus. The number 12. At the precise instant before impact he felt his phone one more time begin to vibrate, and as his body was flung through the air like a cast-off scarecrow, he hummed along to the opening beeps and tones of Für Elise, a particular favourite of his. A girl named hannah landed with a bounce and a slap, and there lay dormant, the straw contortionist. The mobile cellular device stopped ringing. A pause followed. Then, 37 seconds after initial impact, the mobile cellular device resumed its tolling.