It was 10 o' clock and the city, so quiet. She packed her things and walked along the empty sidewalk, towards the bus stop. As she waited, she smiled to herself, proud of the day she spent - not thinking, not worrying, not expecting.
Her bus arrived, and as she got in it, her eyes scouted for empty seats. They were all empty. It was just her and the 50 year old bus driver. More silence, perfect. She chose the backseat, by the window.
And the bus, it kept going, without stopping, without anyone getting on, and she dozed off for a bit. And then there were voices, slowly growing louder and louder, and footsteps, and laughter, and she opened her eyes, still in quite a slumber. She looked at them, laughing away, and talking about things that, well, didn't matter, and she spotted someone. Someone she knew. Someone she was once so close to. Someone who she told everything to. But through the years, they drifted apart, moving on with their separate lives, with his new friends, and their new goals. And like a little puppy, she used to always wait for him, to come back. And he did, occasionally, but then he'd continue on with his life, and she, well... she realized one sleepless, tearful night, that all she had in the world was herself. So she drifted too, and unlike him, she never came back.
They didn't see her, none of them did. And she didn't want them to. She didn't want them to see her alone. She surreptitiously ducked down, anxiously waiting for them to get off. And they did, about five minutes later, and she looked out the window, watching each of them get off. And the person she knew, he saw her, and he waved. And he kept waving, expecting her to wave back, expecting her to be happy to see him, expecting, expecting, expecting.
She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
