During the day, the buses are never really full except around the hour, when off-campus students, having overslept, rush to class with their hair tangled and their clothes rumpled.
When I leave campus, I have company. Students go home after a day of classes. They stop in big streets with apartment complexes and little streets with houses, I stop at the grocery store.
When I am done, I cross the street and wait for the next bus back to the University. Usually, the I catch the same bus on the way back: the amount of time necessary for me to shop is close to that necessary to drive to the end of the line and back. The driver usually recognizes me.
Monday was a peaceful, warm afternoon. At a bus stop next to the wide open field of a park, two young women tried to get on the bus.
One of them asked the driver about the route, and he told them that it was the wrong bus. They laughed and got off.
I don't remember what the first one looked like, because I was mesmerized by the second one. She was wearing an instrument case on her back, too small for a cello and too round and wide for a guitar. A lute, maybe.
Her hair was brown, short and curly. And her eyes, her eyes...
You could see her smile in her eyes. You could see laughter, you could see happiness, you could see life in her eyes. She was beautiful.
The bus drove away.
When I leave campus, I have company. Students go home after a day of classes. They stop in big streets with apartment complexes and little streets with houses, I stop at the grocery store.
When I am done, I cross the street and wait for the next bus back to the University. Usually, the I catch the same bus on the way back: the amount of time necessary for me to shop is close to that necessary to drive to the end of the line and back. The driver usually recognizes me.
Monday was a peaceful, warm afternoon. At a bus stop next to the wide open field of a park, two young women tried to get on the bus.
One of them asked the driver about the route, and he told them that it was the wrong bus. They laughed and got off.
I don't remember what the first one looked like, because I was mesmerized by the second one. She was wearing an instrument case on her back, too small for a cello and too round and wide for a guitar. A lute, maybe.
Her hair was brown, short and curly. And her eyes, her eyes...
You could see her smile in her eyes. You could see laughter, you could see happiness, you could see life in her eyes. She was beautiful.
The bus drove away.
1 comment:
This is such a pretty post. Some people really just do shine like that, do radiate happiness. I know a girl like that, and I think she's just incredibly beautiful.
She's plump with a round face, but I don't think she'd look right any other way.
Post a Comment