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The Last Bus on Marrow Street
dramaEveryone6 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep
I pull up at the next light. Turn around? For what? But I do. U-turn. I drive back to Elm and Third. She's still there. Waiting. Her hand doesn't go up. Her eyes just... watch. She knows I came back.
She boards but doesn't sit. Just stands in the middle aisle, holding the pole, dripping. Staring forward. I say nothing. She says nothing. The bus feels smaller.
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A possible continuation
We drive in silence for ten blocks. The other passengers watch her. She doesn't move. At Park Street, she gets off without saying anything. In the mirror, I watch her fade into the sleet. I never saw her face.
ED
Elif Demir
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