Entry #3: In The Bus
Mr A seemed like a very nice man.
Mr A was the man I met in the bus on my way here. That man who offered his apartment for me to stay. (I won’t be using any names in my diary, so I’ll just go with Mr A, Mr B, etc.)
It was a long eight hour ride in the bus. I wouldn’t have felt bored even if I didn’t have anyone to chat with. I was sad. I was depressed. I was angry. I was confused. I was anything but happy. It was like having all these bad emotions mixed in a blender. That was how I was feeling when I left Bluesocksville.
(Author’s note: Read Claire’s story in Bluesocksville here.)
“You okay?” Mr A asked.
He had been sitting in the seat next to mine for the last maybe four hours or so and I didn’t even notice him. Like I said before, he was good looking although not extremely handsome. Decent would be the correct word.
His short neatly cropped hair made him a little cute. Dressed in a denim jacket over a white tee shirt and faded denim jeans, he looked like someone’s brother, someone you would feel comfortable with.
“Yeah, I am,” I replied, and the concoction of bad emotions disappeared, like some bitter medicine you took and after a while, the bitterness was no longer evident.
“You’ve been, like, staring out of the window for the last four hours,” he said. He dug his hand into a pocket of his jacket and took out a small packet of peanuts. My stomach reminded me it had not been fed since I boarded the bus. The bus would probably make a stop in a couple of hours at a diner’s but I did not think I could wait that long.
He tore open the packet in one smooth rip. He probably snacked on those and then ran for miles to burn off the calories since he looked a bit too skinny to be the type who snacked regularly on peanuts.
“Here.” He gave me the whole packet.
How sweet of him. Luck was with me after all.