Wednesday night
Staring out the bus window
Cloudy skies and a noisy city
Another coffee date
She’d brought her sewing
I’d brought my homework
Watching her move the needle
Pull the thread
Repeat
*
Wednesday night
Bus tires on broken roads
Potholes testing the shocks
Googling
Introduce her to friends: 6 weeks; now
Introduce her to family: 4 months; later
Screen goes black
Staring once again
Imagine
*
Ashamed of me?; No
I’m part of your life; Yes
Then what’s the problem?
It’s not you; it’s them
I met your friends–months ago
They’ll be critical, cold, judgmental
I can handle it; include me
You'd really do that for me?
For us, our future
*
Wednesday night
Abrupt stops repeatedly
Pulls the attention back
Returning to the window
Watching the motorists
Trying to get where they’re going
We all are
But it’s different for us
Imagine
*
I want to introduce you
I want to be introduced
I don’t care what they think
Neither do I
We’ll face it together
I am not afraid
All I want is you
It’s been 4 months; you have me
Always; Always
*
Wednesday night
Honking horns call attention
Talking passengers
But the view remains clear
While heads rest against windows
Her company is enjoyable
But her walls impenetrable
Imagine
*
I want you to meet my family; Why?
It’s time; Says who?
People who treat love as a science
It’s not science. It’s not even art
I don’t want to hide you
Privacy isn’t hiding
I don’t want you to be a secret
Secrets can be good, simpler
Why are you so afraid to be yourself?
*
Wednesday night
No different than another
Considering the patchwork of our lives
Sewing the pieces together
With creative mistakes
Do I pull at that thread?
Imagine
Perhaps she did the same
Four months never came
About the Creator
Alex Casey
I'm a full-time educator and part-time writer. My best ideas usually end up on Vocal.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Alex Casey and writers in Poets and other communities.
Masquerade Party
At six feet seven inches tall and approximately two hundred fifty pounds, Samael presented an imposing figure when he walked into a room. His physical stature may be impressive, but his demeanor is the opposite. The shy, some might say, reclusive personality that he developed as a young boy followed him into manhood. His favorite job was crunching numbers in a quiet one man back office of a fiduciary firm. He was always polite, greeting his fellow workers with a “good morning” or “good afternoon” as he walked to the back of the office where his little hideaway was located, but never tried to engage in conversations.
By Mark Gagnon2 days ago in Horror
Comments
Alex Casey is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Send them a one-off tip.