Short Stories

Bus Stop

Bus Stop

I am headed to nowhere, in particular

Sitting on an empty bus stop bench waiting for the bus that comes for us all

Impatient

I need to leave this place, now

Why I want to run from why I need to leave my reasons are my own

Sighing

I look over to see her, then suddenly I see her

Sitting opposite on the bench next to me like out of no where she appears

Alone

She just like me, I think

There are obvious differences but she’s just like me

Waiting

Black hair sticking out, White creamy skin against black clothes

It just seems to me that her whole being her whole sense her whole aura was just

Black

I turn back to my book, sniffling makes me pause

I look back towards her trying to determine hat was wrong

Curious

Her hood is up, her protective stance

She rubs her forearm as I glance the raindrops start falling from her

Eyes

Stroke, stroke back and forth over the ragged bumps

A squeak and a sniffle again with a quick glance around she looks so

Afraid

Her eyes, they glance around an empty bus stop

They fall upon my me staring at her bruised and battered arm

Angered

I smile up at her, she frowns

Her anger assaults me in silent stares ‘do not mock me’ she seems to say

Sadness

I still smile, smile widely

I pull up my right sleeve and show her my marks

Love

Astonishment, shock show on a bruised face

A slow smile brightens her as she lefts her left sleeve to show me…

Anticipation

Love, just like mine

written on an abused arm, calls out to me from across the bench beckoning to me

Whispering

I move, she meets me halfway

A simple name a simple game the bus so eager to get on has come and away

Empty

I am hers, she is mine

We had more in common than I thought

Our reasons for running have now run away

We have found our reason to live another

Day