"For like...the bus or something?" It was the second time I had gotten the same answer, and I wanted him to elaborate.
"No, not the bus. I'm not going anywhere." There was a far off look in his eyes when he said that. An unreadable look that had me wondering all sorts of things about this stranger.
"Just...waiting?" He has sparked a curiosity in me. A curiosity that was like a glowing ember, at first easy to extinguish, but if blown on even a little, would grow into an all consuming flame.
"Yes." Again, that crooked smile, with the imperfect teeth. The freckles on his nose almost indistinguishable in the cold. If he caught me staring he didn't remark on it, just kept staring off ahead of him.
"And you come here everyday?"
"Yes, everyday."
"You've never skipped a day?" He looked over at me, dark hair rustling in the slight breeze.
"Not since I started waiting." His eyes gave nothing away, just the simple answer he didn't seem to understand only made me want to ask more questions until final I was given the type of answer I expected. But what that was, I didn't know.
"What makes you come out here everyday?" He tilted his head to the side, the movement showing that he expected me to understand by now.
The only answer he gave me was that adorable, crooked smile.
YOU ARE READING
I'm Waiting
Short StoryIt was always the same bench, at the same time, every single day. Why? What was he waiting for?
