The Wrong Side of the Tracks II

Today’s prompt: “Rewrite the above story from the point of view of a wealthy stockbroker who ends up in the poorest part of town.”

“Last stop,” the bus driver yells, rousing you from slumber. You clutch your briefcase and leave the bus, blinking at your surroundings. You’ve never been in this part of town before. It’s definitely the wrong side of the tracks. Pawn shops. Dive bars. Payday loan offices. Lava. The lava quickly surrounds the graffiti-covered, cigarette butt-filled bus stop. You clamber up onto the bench, but it continues to rise. The bench shifts beneath your weight as its iron legs melt away in the red-hot, flowing stone.

“So this is what it’s like to live in a non-gentrified neighborhood,” you think.