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The Last Bus on Marrow Street

dramaEveryone
6 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep

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.

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.

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