Verweilend / Remaining

Remaining

She is the girl on the second row in the night bus. Top, left side, window seat. He is the boy in the front row in the night bus. Top, right side, window seat as well. Each night, they ride together, alone but for each other. She is scribbling into her notebook, he is looking out the window. He is on his way home, she is on her way to work. Every night. They do not know each other. Yet they notice. He notices her scribbling. She notices him watching. Seasons change, but they remain.

"Are you a writer?" he asks. She doesn't answer.

"Are you a prostitute?" he asks. She doesn't answer.

"Are you an artist?" he asks. She doesn't answer.

"Are you a waitress?" he asks. She-

"Yes. And no. Yes and no and no and yes."

Their eyes meet this one time. Black and blue. Black and blue. They could start to talk now. Get to know each other, like each other, fall for each other, change each other. Lose each other. In another life, they do. In another life, they already have. In another, they are meeting their soulmate. In another, they are sitting together, holding hands. In yet another, they have known each other from the very start. In one, they are on their way home to the kids. In another life, they talk again three nights later.

They remain silent. They could be. Yet they remain. She is just the girl in the second row in the night bus. And he is the boy in the first row in the night bus. Separated by nothing but two empty seats, and everything. Strangers, sharing nothing but the night. Just a girl and a boy on the night bus, going in different directions.