Bus rideA Story by Mrudula Rani
They met on the bus.
He was already there sitting. She sat next to him, it was a narrow spot that was the only seat vacant. First day they did not speak a word Neither did they on the second day. Stole side glances, when they thought the other wasn't aware. - On the third day he smiled, and said good morning! She greeted him back. Next day, Thursday he was keeping her a seat next to his They sat very close When the bus took a wide curve she was thrown into his arms, He caught her from hitting the floor, His warm embrace... she couldn't forget for the rest of the day! The bus was full by the time she got on it. But he was keeping a seat for her as usual, And greeted her with a smile, And put her in such a pleasant mood, that lasted through the weekend! They talked, and talked! After words she couldn't remember what was about they talked! His eyes never leaving her face she remembered, now and then he touching her shoulders. And the excitement she felt, sort of that turned into longing, Which she craved for more! Sunday seemed to end never, Monday she dressed with care They sat in the middle of the bus, before the exit doors. An elderly lady sat opposite to them and kept an eye on the pair She went to work by bus, Monday to Friday. Before it was 8:30 bus, that made too many stops She changed to 8:45 express bus! The 15 min made all the difference... What a handsome difference those few minutes made! Handsome men get as many perks as pretty women. Both are treated like work of art! wanted by every one. She should know, she is familiar with those stares of men, And women stealing a second glance to see what is so special that's making men stare! People fuss about women exploiting their good looks! what about men? They play the butterflies! When she told her friends at work, that she had met a good looking man, They all made the same remark, " Be careful, there are all sort of weirdos out there!" What do they know about some one they met never? How nice it would be to introduce him to her friends? And see them become tongue tide. How wonderful it would be just walk with him in to a party? I am getting ahead of myself, it has been a week hardly, And I know him barely. That didn't stop her from thinking about him, she thought a lot about him, and in many ways! she couldn't wait to get on that Bus once again, as usual! But the bus was full ! She inched her way through the bus to the middle. Her usual seat was occupied. He was there sitting in the same place, He didn't save her a seat. She felt a huge disappointment The elderly lady in the seat by the exit, removed a large bag and made room for her to sit She smiled and said " No thank you. I will be sitting all day at work , I could use a little standing up for now!" She tuned back and caught a glimpse of the man, He was seriously talking to an young woman Didn't even notice her. The new woman was sitting on the edge of her seat, Almost facing him, talking very animatedly! She could see only the back of her blond hair with blue and puple streaks, And on the inside of her left leg tattoo of a big yellow sun flower! She really wanted to see the new woman's face. Before she could put two and two together and make sense, Her stop was in sight, She got off the bus with a heavy heart. The next day wasn't any better, or different! The man and his new interest were so obsorbed in each other, They were oblivion to her stares! She got a good look at the person that is sitting, where she sat last week, The young woman was beautiful in a Picassoesque style With a nose ring, and lipstick, a shade of color she hasn't seen before! Blue and purple streaks in her hair, His eyes never left those painted eyes of the young girl. Suddenly she had an incurable urge to laugh out loud till tears streamed down her cheeks! Instead; She opened her hand bag wide, and stuck her face in it As if she was searching for something till the urge died! © 2018 Mrudula RaniReviews
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5 Reviews Added on January 13, 2018 Last Updated on June 12, 2018 Tags: Fake friendships, emotional abuse Author
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