Stories from the Streets

In a hurry. A schedule to keep. A timetable to follow. Hoping against hope that the grey clouds dont open up until later, much later.

Where is the darn bus, she asks. She can handle delay anytime, but not today. Today she needed to be where she is supposed to be early. She needed to keep her schedule.

But she knew that she wouldn't get a break. Never had. So when the bus didn't show up on time and she felt the first drops of rain, she knew she didn't get a break this time also.

What she didn't account for was the metaphorical curve ball that is thrown at her. The curve ball came via HIM. All of a sudden he was standing right in front of her. Poker face. No emotion. Nothing. Blank expression.

Pleasantries exchanged. Then bus sighting, two blocks away. She sighed in relief. He grabbed her arm and ask for a few minutes of her time. She had none to give today.

She chose to go. To keep her schedule. To fulfill her obligation. It was a gamble to leave him hanging there just like that.

Once inside the bus, the rain poured on, so did her tears. She knew. It was the end.


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