Contact Stranger

I am staring out of the window on the bus.

As the bus pulls up at a bus stop, my gaze falls upon a girl; not especially pretty, quite nondescript.

She looks back at me, and our eyes meet.

In that brief moment, I wonder,

Who is she?

Has she ever found love?

What is she like?

What is she thinking?

What’s her story?

The doors of the bus slide shut, and the bus pulls away. Our eyes break contact, and her face is immediately forgotten.

That’s one person I’ll never get to know.


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