By Ashe Frank
One knee brushes another.
They jolt apart—and do not look.
The bus rumbles to a halt.
This is Lucy’s stop.
~
They sit as they always do—together.
But not,
together.
The days pass.
Knee brushes knee again and again.
Purposefully accidental to wandering eyes. To curious glances.
~
They smile like passing strangers in the hallways.
A secret blooming between them.
~
Two hands untouching on the seam of their seat, a line uncrossed.
A pothole throws their terrain into disarray; the boundary between them is breached.
A knuckle brushes hello.
A finger pad paints a reply.
The bus—stops.
Anna alights.
lovely. the image of the knuckles saying hello!
I love this line so much: “Two hands untouching on the seam of their seat, a line uncrossed.” You depicted the unspoken relationship so well!!
AHHHH I love this so much!!!
And you want to know why they can’t, don’t speak. So true too often!
I love the sweet intensity of this story!
Wonderfully told. Tension and passion. Holding my breath.
Using the word limit to wonderful effect. I enjoyed it even more on second reading.
A wonderful blending of excitement with suspense. A unique way to describe. Done nicely, Ashe.
Lovely little story… the ‘staccato’ in the passage worked well.. it felt as though I were there experiencing the rumbling bus and story unfolding… we done…
Nicely done – would love to know what is said when they eventually do get talking!
I loved this story – so evocative and captures the emotions well! Thanks!