Bus Report #465
My 22 Fillmore this morning was crowded.
A sleepy, freshly showered couple sat a few rows ahead of me and to my left. The woman had a thick, oatmeal-colored sweater on and chin length brown hair. The man, in his late 20s, maybe, with Clark Kent glasses and a goatee, had two suitcases and a satchel with him.
I thought, I bet they're going to SFO, they'll get out at Mission and 16th, and then I turned my attention elsewhere and forgot about them for the rest of the ride.
At Mission, the man in the couple got out with his bags. The woman stayed in her seat. She sat huddled against the window.
She did not watch him go.
He stood out on the sidewalk with his bags and looked back at the bus. Was he looking for her?
He was.
She turned a little (but not enough to see him from where she was sitting) and I could see that she had tears running down her face. A tear rolled down her cheek and disappeared into the collar of her sweater.
She quickly turned back to her window.
He didn't move, stood completely still with one hand on his roller suitcase, the other hand clutching the strap of his bag.
He stared straight through the window, past the people in the aisle, past the postal worker blocking the door.
She didn't notice.
As we pulled away, he followed us with his eyes, until, I assume, we were out of his field of vision.
A sleepy, freshly showered couple sat a few rows ahead of me and to my left. The woman had a thick, oatmeal-colored sweater on and chin length brown hair. The man, in his late 20s, maybe, with Clark Kent glasses and a goatee, had two suitcases and a satchel with him.
I thought, I bet they're going to SFO, they'll get out at Mission and 16th, and then I turned my attention elsewhere and forgot about them for the rest of the ride.
At Mission, the man in the couple got out with his bags. The woman stayed in her seat. She sat huddled against the window.
She did not watch him go.
He stood out on the sidewalk with his bags and looked back at the bus. Was he looking for her?
He was.
She turned a little (but not enough to see him from where she was sitting) and I could see that she had tears running down her face. A tear rolled down her cheek and disappeared into the collar of her sweater.
She quickly turned back to her window.
He didn't move, stood completely still with one hand on his roller suitcase, the other hand clutching the strap of his bag.
He stared straight through the window, past the people in the aisle, past the postal worker blocking the door.
She didn't notice.
As we pulled away, he followed us with his eyes, until, I assume, we were out of his field of vision.
posted by Rachel at 9:57 AM
2 Comments:
Beautifully seen and described for us.
Thanks! It was so sad to watch, I hope they're both doing okay.
Post a Comment
<< Home