Walking by

A Story by Terra Bendite

I sit on a bench, waiting for the bus to pick me up. Footsteps fill the air as people pass me by but this one man stood out. His hair dyed pink except for the sides, arms toned, the bright shirt shaping his broad shoulders. He only looked at me for a second before moving on, chestnut eyes glaring, my heart pounding. Who is this guy? What’s his name? These questions cross my mind as I watch the man walk towards a building. The next day I sit at the exact same bench. The man walks by again, looking at me for a brief second then straight on into the same building. Is this his routine?