The Morning Bus

The bus is late.  Again.  It’s early, I miss my bed and I really don’t want to be stood in the cold.  I should have learned to drive.  I still should learn, but I can never find the time or the money.  I have to work to get the money, pay money to get to work and at the end of the month it’s gone.  Yeah sure we’re all in the same position but it is annoying.  That forty five minute bus journey would only be twenty via car and I wouldn’t have to rely on a terrible schedule.  They’re always late and always driving so slowly.  It’s worse at the weekend when there’s half an hour between arrivals, it’s bad enough I have to work on a Sunday but this just adds on.  So I stand here waiting, growing impatient, but there’s one good part about getting the bus into work every day.  If I’m very lucky I get to see her.


She always gets on a few stops after me and always makes my heart flutter.  I swear I’ve never seen anyone like her.  She’s always changing her look and each one is delightful.  She’ll change her hair in style and colour and she always has my jaw dropping.  I think of all her styles I love her wavy curls; I think they’re my favourite.  Oh and when she had the red through her hair, it shimmered in the summer sunlight, it was really cute.  She’s always looks smart, ready for work rather than play, but never fails to show off a playful personality with the little bit of flair she accessorises with.  Well I like to think it’s a playful personality.  Be it a scarf, jacket, shoes or something in her hair she always has a little splash of her personality on show that grabs my attention.  She always has a smile, even at the ungodly hour we’re heading to work at she still have that adorable smile that lights up that dull bus journey.  Or course the sun is rising at this time so maybe I’m merging the two together, but honestly I don’t care  We both seem to have adopted favourite seats; me in the fourth row and she takes the third, always on the left against the window.  She’s literally right in front of me; I could reach out and gently stoke her hair if I wanted.  I don’t, but part of me really wants to.  The creepy part apparently.


Every time we get to her stop my eyes are fixed out the window, looking to see if she’ll be there today.  I hate when she’s not working, seeing her is the best part of my morning.  As soon as I see her I feel those butterflies waking and immediately I drop my gaze.  I don’t want her to see me stare.  It’s stupid I know, but I see her every day, I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.  I know I’d be uncomfortable if a creepy guy like me was staring all the time.  I know it would be too easy for me to become transfixed by her.  When I do dare to watch her take the seat in front of me I’m always astounded.  It’s like she floats to the seat.  I know it’s all in my head but the way the rising sunlight catches her, the way she holds herself it’s hard not to believe she’s the single most graceful creature in this world.  I’m not going to get anywhere being so she and pretending not to look at her, I’m just not quite sure how she’ll react to the advances of someone like me.  By the way she walks, the way she dresses, the confidence that radiates from her in nothing more than her presence I’m convinced she must be someone important.


She must work in an office, something that requires the good old business dress she wears so elegantly.  I don’t know exactly where she works, it’s in the same town but she always wanders off in another direction once we get into town.  I’ve thought about following her many times.  Not in a creepy stalker way; well maybe, I don’t really think there’s any other way to describe it.  I’m just so curious about her, what does she actually do for work, that always has her looking so beautiful.  Everything about her peaks my curiosity and I don’t even know her name, maybe I should start there.


Have you ever been on a bus or a train and looked out the window to see a reflection of the person in front of you?  It’s something that happens to all public transport commuters but we mostly ignore it.  Unless that reflection is of someone you happen to find rather attractive.  I always seem to notice and I do like to think that It’s not used for perverted ogling, at least not when I do it.  I’m just shy so I keep my amorous affections to myself.  Now that I think about it, the amount of time I’ve spent staring at the back of that girls head or catching the side of her face in a reflection is really sad.  The funny part is I like having that anonymity that she’s doesn’t actually know what I’m thinking.  I like that she’s oblivious, it scares me to think that I’m making her journey to work uncomfortable.  I’m sure she’s never even noticed I’m watching her reflection.  Actually I wonder if the person you’re looking at through a reflection can tell your looking at them.  I really hope not.  I do try to be subtle about it but there’s been a few times where I catch her eyes in the reflection and I’m convinced she knows.  It’s still as nerve wracking as catching her eyes dead on.  In an odd way the secrecy is comforting, I get to indulge in some harmless fantasy and she doesn’t get harassed.  Sitting back with music playing in my ears and watching in quiet adoration, it’s a lovely way to start my morning.  Dreamily gazing out the window, fixed on the only sight I want to see.  I’ve been guilty of trying to peer through the reflection if she’s on her phone, to try and learn more about her.  It’s shameless and an invasion of privacy but maybe we like the same music, or maybe I’ll actually learn her name.  It never works; I’d have better luck reading over her shoulder.  I’d rather not resort to that; a reflection is accidental, whereas looking over her shoulder is really taking steps in the creepy direction.  To be fair, I’m not that bad.  The only person I can hurt is me and I’m enjoying myself, besides I’ve had weirder thoughts.


She’s got this really lovely hooded coat she wears most mornings.  It’s mustard yellow and it really makes her stand out from the grey muted colours the other commuters wear.  The hood hangs open atop the backrest of her seat when she sits down.  In some misplaced idea of romance I have the ridiculous urge to plant a note in it.  Nothing salacious of course, it would just be a simple hello, a few pretty words in a silly attempt to break the ice and start a conversation.  The traditional love note is a tried and tested way for someone with a shy heart to express their feelings.  It would be so easy to do, but probably unnecessary and definitely over the top creepy.  It’s still a massive temptation.  If I take my time I have really nice handwriting and if I open my heart I can craft beautiful words.  I don’t think I’ll actually do it; I want to, I want to so badly but I know that would be crossing a line.  How creepy would it be to get caught by her, hand in hood?  How would I even do it without anyone else seeing?  The bus isn’t exactly full but there are enough witnesses to see my nonsense in action.


I get really annoyed if someone else takes her seat.  It’s stupid I know, but seeing her is the best part of my morning.  Every time it happens I quietly seethe till her stop.  If she’s not there the seat thief is safe; if she is there and has to take another seat, I could burn a hole in the back of that terrible thief’s head with my glare.  I thought about making a reserved sign to throw over the seat.  When the images started to fill with love hearts I decided it was a bad idea.  I should have decided that straight away but I really liked the idea of keeping her seat reserved.  Everyone likes a bit of routine in the morning, you haven’t quite woken up so you’re on auto pilot.  I’m pretty sure no-one else would approve, I’d like to think she would.  Maybe not the hearts, I don’t think that’s her style but I’m not actually going to do it.


When the bus finally arrives I’m annoyed to find someone’s stole her seat.  I’m even more annoyed to find someone’s stolen mine as well.  Not the start to the day I wanted but there empty seats further back so it’s not like I have to sit beside some random stranger.  I don’t know if it’s just me but I want my own space, I know that whoever I sit beside won’t bother me, I just don’t like it.  It can’t just be me, there are rows filled with just one person, everyone seems to be opting for their own empty row.  I take a seat, on the left of course; at least I can still sit on my preferred side.  I don’t know what’s so special about this morning but this bus has filled up fast, I doubt I’ll be sat alone for long; someone is bound to sit beside me.  In a dream world it would be her, but I’m not falling down that rabbit hole this morning.  I go through my own morning ritual of connecting to WIFI and reading whatever articles grab my attention.  I keep looking up out the window, making sure I haven’t missed her stop.  As the bus approaches so do the butterflies.  At least if we can’t have our normal seats I can catch a glimpse of her.  There she is, you can’t miss her in that coat and once more she has this inexplicable ability to make me smile.  That’s my morning made, it’ll all go downhill from here but at least I had that one fleeing moment.  I go back to my phone and my morning distractions, but I’m quickly disturbed as someone takes the seat beside me.  All I saw was a flash of yellow and I don’t want to look up.  I know it’s her and I don’t want to look up.


As the bus continues on its journey, I take off my earphones and look up.  We catch each other’s eyes and I’m speechless.  She smiles and simply says “Hi”…



8 thoughts on “The Morning Bus

    1. Now thats a thought, babies.

      Maybe a revisit, 5 years on, the family car is broke, the kids are taken on the bus,the frustrations of young parents and the memories of young love.

      I really do love this story, its so sweetly innocent.

      Liked by 1 person

        1. Here you!!! I have enough homework as it is!!! I don’t even know what today is.

          It shall be added to my never ended list of projects. I might save it for another batch of short stories. Lots to be done and wow is most of it nonsense!!! Ahahaha!!!

          Liked by 1 person

  1. This was one of my very first ideas for the blog but it sat patiently awaiting the right time to be written It was always conceived as a two party duality between the boy and girl, by now you’ll have seen the redux.

    I’m so happy you enjoyed this, it aches of my own desires for something like this to happen to me. The male perspective is very much my own internal nonsense.

    This is why I hold onto the bubble wrap I get from packages, its wonderful for the need to let out some cuteness squeezing


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