"Can't wait to get to Reno," Charlene purred, as she boarded the bus.

The bus driver, his eyes fixated on her well-developed bosom, stammered, "Mmm, ma'am, I'll get ya there in no time." He noticed her heavy leather suitcase. "Can I be of help to ya?"

"No, thank you sir," said Charlene, her voice dipped in honey. "A girl's got to learn to manage things herself these days."

She hoisted the suitcase and placed it on the seat beside her. She had chosen the vacant window seat directly behind the driver. Charlene carefully straightened out the creases of her scoop neck white cotton dress. After teasing her platinum blonde hair to her satisfaction, she opened up her compact, and expertly reapplied her red lipstick. She then decided to enjoy the long ride.

Charlene held the handle of the suitcase tightly. Her whole future lay in there. Fifty-thousand dollars would make her life a lot more comfortable. Mario certainly wouldn't miss it. He was so careless with his wealth, spending his money on the ponies, booze, and lots of other women. Charlene rationalized to herself that she had earned this as repayment for all of the years with Mario.

Life with Mario was suffocating. He controlled her every move. Charlene had made one attempt to return to Georgia, back to her "mama and pappy". Her pappy had always been very good to her. But a tearful Mario begged her to stay and surprised her with a white mink coat. So, she stayed. She stayed as long as she possibly could. Until the day that she got the nerve to take the money.

Now she was on her own and she felt free. This was the first time that she had taken charge of her own life. Charlene was proud of her new role as a mature young woman.

The bus slowly reached the terminal. Charlene grabbed her suitcase and headed to the exit.

"That was the most delicious ride," said Charlene seductively, as she stepped down from the bus.

"It was my pleasure to serve ya," said the bus driver graciously, "And it would be an even greater pleasure if I could buy you dinner here in Reno."

Charlene batted her eyelashes. She waited until the door was closing to respond. "Thank you for your invitation. But I'm afraid I have another pressing engagement. Good-bye."

She walked briskly into the terminal and headed for the ladies room. While in the stall, Charlene quickly removed the sweaty white cotton dress, the padded bra, and stockings. Instead, a faded blue sweat suit was put on. The platinum blonde wig was replaced with a fiery red one. All traces of the lipstick were removed and a pair of nondescript eyeglasses was placed on her face. She took out the gun and wrapped it up with the dress. The pile was dropped into a feminine disposal bag.

Charlene headed to the ticket counter.

"A ticket to Denver, and hurry." Her deep voice revealed a Brooklyn accent. "Can't wait to get there."

Sari Colt's work has appeared in Fresh, Nuvein, Bloc Magazine (UK), The Danforth Review, EWGPresents, Tongue, and The Writer's Hood. Other writings have been accepted for future publication in Miscellaneous and Megaera. She spends her days helping run her family business and devotes her spare time to writing.