YET TO COME

..TEN..

...TEN...

~The Bus station
(February 2015)

She walked home in low spirits.

Her bag pack was on her back; her makeup box was in her right hand and her clutch in the left.

She trudged along, trying to think of anything but the tall handsome stranger that had awoken something in her, something she couldn’t dare let be.

It was something called want, need, greed.

It was something she shouldn’t dare desire.

She sighed and looked up, realizing then that she had almost passed the bus stop.

She stopped and stood, waiting for the bus, absentminded.

She was pushed easily partly because she had not been expecting it.

She lost her footing but managed not to fall as her clutch was pulled.

She kept a strong grip on it as she screamed for help.

It came, and it surprised her.

It did because it came in the form of the very person she had been thinking about.

He punched the young mugger across the face causing him to lose his grip on her clutch.

He caught him by the left upper arm as he turned to flee.

He struggled for a while before giving up.

The mugger returned his direct and intimidating stare blatantly though he was afraid.

He covered the distance between them.

‘You’re too young for this. How old are you?’ he asked him.

‘Seventeen and a half sir,’ was the young mugger’s reply.

He accessed the boy.

He was scrawny and definitely looked hungry.

He had compassion on the suffering fellow.

‘Do not do this again,’ he said to him.

He let go of his hand.

The mugger turned to flee but froze halfway and turned back to him.

‘I thank you sir,’ he said.

‘Take this,’ he said giving him a few brown bills.

He attached his complimentary card to it. He received it.

‘What is your name?’

‘It’s Desmond sir,’ he said.

‘Call me Desmond.’

The mugger nodded and ran away before he would change his mind.

He turned to her then.