The Bus Stop

Written at the Literary Estate workshop

By Julie Cutler

Workshop participants
by Beverley Small

I left the house, on that cool breezy Tuesday morning, made up for work, not too prim and proper, but just enough I hoped to catch someone’s eye that day at the bus stop.  The young man, whose name, I did not know, caught my eye for the last couple of weeks, and I was really hoping he would notice me, but alas he did not. What was his name I wondered, as I walked towards the bus stop near Carpenders Park Station. Would I have the courage to say hello, after seeing him quite a few times previously, but I was bought up to have manners, and was way too shy to say hello to him.  He had been at the bus stop every morning for the last few weeks,  We so happened to share a journey each day, I guessed he worked in Watford, as he got off at the same bus stop near the town centre each day, and I got off at the one before him, near Bushey Arches to travel to my work place, at Wickes.  I really wanted to say hello, he had caught my eye every morning, on his phone chatting away to his friends I believe.  Did he have a girlfriend I wondered? Was I being too forward? Oh how I did not want to give off the wrong impression.

He looked so smart in his suit, his long dark hair tied back away from his shoulders.  I always like the smart rugged look: cleanly shaven, but with an air of confidence.  How embarrassed would I be it I just went up to him?  I had to make up an excuse to talk to him. That particular Tuesday morning, I had slipped my watch in my handbag, so I could make up a conversation, and ask him what the time was.  I approached the bus stop that sunny Tuesday morning, feeling more apprehensive than normal.  I had to speak to him; he had been playing on my mind for so long.  I had been single for a while now, and so wanted to meet a nice man to settle down with.  I saw him, and yes the chemistry was there, he gave me butterflies just looking at him..  He stood there in his smart grey suit, as I approached the bus stop, his hair flowing in the gentle breeze,  I felt the breeze go through my hair.  Would I have the guts to talk to him today.  He wore a light blue shirt under his suit, his black shoes, smartly polished.  I knew I had to ask him the time, enough was enough, any reason to talk to him.  I casually, as I could walked up to the bus stop and asked him the time.  He answered with a broad smile on his face, had he noticed me, I did not try and stick out too much, I never did, but I just had to talk to him.. At last I had summoned up the courage to talk to him. He seemed so polite. Wednesday the next day would I have the courage to carry on the conversation….

This page was added on 15/06/2012.

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