He walked with his head up, his back straight and his strides were quick and determined. He had somewhere to be. That somewhere was probably home. All around him people sheeped towards the doors. The door. No one had the time or patience to open two doors. One was always enough as soon as you exited.
Behind him, a girl called out his name; hesitated; and then tried again. He didn't hear. Probably too busy thinking about the stuff to do at home. Lunch or the couch or the tv. Not homework. He looked too carefree to be thinking about that.
The girl tried one last time, embarrassment in her voice. Not embarrassed about him, exactly. Embarrassed at the fact that she was calling and he couldn't hear.
He finally stopped, turned around, a smile on his face.
They were friends.
YOU ARE READING
People
Short StoryMy observations of the people I have come across in my life. Real people.
