Ficlets

1/17/01;; "White Houses"

My fingers switched the hold button on and off, on and off.
He poked at the top of my head from the seat behind me and I felt the shock through my matted hair and thick hood. The bus swayed and groaned as we rounded another corner. I turned around to see no one.
Aha! Two fingers lightly gripped the back of my bus seat. I tapped them, adrenaline now beating in sync with my heart and the song blasting in my ears.
.. because when she dances she just goes, and goes..
I peek between the opening close to the window and see him looking back at me.
I scrunch up my eyes and smile. He copies.
.. I come undone at the things he says..
And when he asks,”you?”
I reply, “I’m tired,” and that’s that. The piano keys lightly dance in my ears.
The silence isn’t awkward for me at all, but for him I know it is. It draws him away and I’m left dancing with the keys on my tip toes trying to make out his shadow. I need his arms around me again. The bus stops, he leaves.
..we were all in love and we all got hurt..

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