The 51 bus moves slowly, rumbling wearily down the road, huffing and puffing like my old Grandpa. I don't care. Its a beautiful morning- dappled sunlight streak through the leaves of the Puriri that line the road on either side, and a cloudless sky rolls overhead. I lean against the dirty window, gazing up at the large blue expanse. It blows my mind, because I feel as though there is too much beauty in that beautiful blue oblivion, endless and overwhelming. I love her, I know.
Old, worn out houses flash past like forgotten memories. I wonder briefly about the people who lived there, sitting in their couches, reading newspapers. My father had lived in one of those kind of houses before he got bored of the town, left and returned with a new wife. But that had been nearly 3 years ago.
When the bus pulls up at the next stop, students scurry on, swiftly filling up the last vacant seats. A tall, pale girl with frizzy hair shuffles in behind the others. She moves up the aisle awkwardly and as the bus starts moving again, “Can I sit here” she says. I nod. I …show more content…
Across the room, Alex is laughing with delight, a pealing laughter that sounds so happy and lively, and for some bizarre reason, my eyes suddenly sting with tears. I blink them away. I grab my bag, gripping the straps tightly in my small, sweaty hand as I walk towards my English class.
When I reach the dairy outside, I stand and watch the seagulls hiss and screech under the concrete sky. Grease and salt odours mingle heavily in the thick air. Outside the dairy, the pedestrian light flashes light. Great. I dart across the road, jiggling my bag on my back. Then I hear the growl of tyres and see a car speeding towards me, a monster of steel teeth and war paint. She's not looking. She's going fast, too fast. One hand on the wheel. The passenger in the back has a comic book and is reading with his head disappearing behind the book, and for a bizarre moment I wonder what it is he's
Old, worn out houses flash past like forgotten memories. I wonder briefly about the people who lived there, sitting in their couches, reading newspapers. My father had lived in one of those kind of houses before he got bored of the town, left and returned with a new wife. But that had been nearly 3 years ago.
When the bus pulls up at the next stop, students scurry on, swiftly filling up the last vacant seats. A tall, pale girl with frizzy hair shuffles in behind the others. She moves up the aisle awkwardly and as the bus starts moving again, “Can I sit here” she says. I nod. I …show more content…
Across the room, Alex is laughing with delight, a pealing laughter that sounds so happy and lively, and for some bizarre reason, my eyes suddenly sting with tears. I blink them away. I grab my bag, gripping the straps tightly in my small, sweaty hand as I walk towards my English class.
When I reach the dairy outside, I stand and watch the seagulls hiss and screech under the concrete sky. Grease and salt odours mingle heavily in the thick air. Outside the dairy, the pedestrian light flashes light. Great. I dart across the road, jiggling my bag on my back. Then I hear the growl of tyres and see a car speeding towards me, a monster of steel teeth and war paint. She's not looking. She's going fast, too fast. One hand on the wheel. The passenger in the back has a comic book and is reading with his head disappearing behind the book, and for a bizarre moment I wonder what it is he's