The engine moves off. Cooped up behind, we follow. I keep my eyes outside, scouring the scenery. Not sure why I expect to see her. I only know she no longer uses this service.
Not now.
For months we conversed on our journey to the city, quickly becoming firm commuting buddies. For most of this time I could see us in no other form. Neither, well never, did she.
Yet we kissed.
I mistook one gesture;
I fell suddenly;
I slowly engineered the moment, pushed it just enough, found success.
I thought.
She decided to move in with her boyfriend.
Written for the 100 Word Challenge on Thin Spiral Notebook; the prompt was more of a challenge: do not use the letter A.
Not now.
For months we conversed on our journey to the city, quickly becoming firm commuting buddies. For most of this time I could see us in no other form. Neither, well never, did she.
Yet we kissed.
I mistook one gesture;
I fell suddenly;
I slowly engineered the moment, pushed it just enough, found success.
I thought.
She decided to move in with her boyfriend.
Written for the 100 Word Challenge on Thin Spiral Notebook; the prompt was more of a challenge: do not use the letter A.
Broken-hearted on a train... that's hard.
ReplyDeleteor maybe she went on vacation . . . :) well done.
ReplyDeleteOh, I like it. Good job catching the disappointment of dashed hope.
ReplyDelete