The Yellow Bus

My task is simple.

Determined, I walked towards the old yellow bus that will leave before 10 a.m.

I sit still. I need to focus. I have to stop thinking. Because I may have doubts.

——

We finally gave our final kisses.

This is not our last goodbye but I can’t stop the tears.

I ended our tight hug and finally let go of her.

She then finally went inside the yellow bus.

She will be leaving before 10 am to finally pick the dress that she will be wearing on our wedding day.

I would like to come with her but she refused.

She wanted it to be a surprise.

—–

I hate seeing people who kissed in public.

In my own country, we never do that. But here, I think it’s normal.

“Stop.” I tell myself.

I have to focus.

This yellow bus is leaving before 10 am.

I should leave earlier.

——-

I stayed waiting for her yellow bus to leave.

I stand and blow air kisses as she looked at me through the not-so-clear window.

I have no plans of letting go of her lovely brown eyes until a man with a blue cap bumped into me.

I looked at him, straight to his eyes.

He looked at me too.

But I stopped staring because 10 am is near, and my love will be leaving.

———

Finally, off I go.

I wanted to run. But I didn’t.

I walked briskly amid this busy city’s humidity.

I reached my final spot.

Far from what will happen.

But near enough to see the yellow bus.

I waited until…

———-

I waved unceasingly as the yellow bus went away.

I stopped when she cannot see me any more.

Until…

———

Scream. Sirens. Blood.

There’s no more yellow bus.

09.23.2015
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Unsplash
Originally written for Blogging University’s WRITING 101 Day 13 Assignment.
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32 thoughts on “The Yellow Bus

    1. Oh I am so sorry. My beginning of writing fiction was really bloody. So expect more Davy as I posted my throwback fictions.
      Also, last Friday 14 lives were killed by a bomb here in the Philippines. It’s saddening. Terrorism is saddening. *sigh*

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Makes me think of what’s happened in your country recently. An explosion. Not that explosions don’t happen here, because they do. But whenever they are near people, experiences that have nothing to do with why the bomb was placed are changed forever, if not terminated. Good writing, sister, about real tragedy.

    Liked by 2 people

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