The girl at the bus stop. (Word count: 129)
I wrote this a little while ago, while waiting for my bus one morning. Took it quite serious as a genuine story at one stage, and I've just stumbled upon it and thought I might start showing it to people :)
I don't write or anything, in fact I have a terrible grade in English GCSE, so no harsh comments please!
Thanks! HJ
I much preferred the bus stop when that young girl was there. She used to chat with me, every morning. And sometimes she'd even sit with me on the bus, as if the conversation was that important anyway. Her cheery smile and happy little chuckles made even the coldest heart melt. What a sweet girl she was. But one Monday morning, in the piercing cold wind, the young girl didn't arrive. Nor the next day. I just allowed myself to settle with the idea she just missed the bus or found herself with a rather unfriendly cold. Of course, weeks past and she never arrived, that happy, happy girl. I found my days getting longer, it was more difficult to wake up every morning - having nothing to look forward to. Infact, it was rather a disappointment to wake up anyway. Every morning I found myself hurrying to the bus stop as though I were late. Is she there? Is she okay? No. Not there. I wish I knew something about her, if only a name, I could find out if she were okay.
Her carving in the bus remained though: back row, right hand seat, "Let your smile change the world, dont let the world change your smile".
So once again, I wake up. Is she there? She's never there. What happened to the girl that once made me smile? Is she alright? Where is she? What is she doi- bus has arrived.. The worst breaking is the breaking back to reality from what you wish was now.
