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The Girl On The Bus.
I came home, few days back for attending the graduation gala meet, which I have been waiting for eons. The happiness comes with costs too. In my case the dress code, A navy blue suit costs more than i afford. Still I brought because my mom wants to attend it that badly.
After reaching the event place I never expected that many people there, probably i never saw that many people in a single place except the warfares. I waited too long like 6 hrs to get my name called finnally it happened. My be dopamine kicks in only upto expectation, after the reward I felt pretty normal so normal. Like it never happned.
Now its time, way back to work from home. I booked a bus ticket which I always do. Its a 4 hour long journey. so I keep a time traveling device ie, a crime novel in my bag. This time its "The Girl On The Train" by paula hawkins. The one which i took from the "Yet to read shelf".
I always book the corner seat. I hate the wind in summer as it brings his friends heat and dust to settle on my face. Yet i love the veiw from the window rather than the aisle. Everything comes with the cost eyy!
I checked my seat number 11. The only knowledge of booking seats has been evolved after several trips. Like based on the season and the timing of travel I look for the direction of sun, means which side of the bus get more light more heat based on that i book the otherside. In my case from home to work its right side which gets less heat. From the work to home its the other side.
I took the seat no. 11 and the window is shut. Its the tinted black glass. After arranging my bag and stuff I took my novel to read along the way.
I tried to open the window glass to meet the sun's kiss. Thats when I saw the reflection of a face on it. The face which is spotless, perhaps its only the side of it i am able to feel. Its the face, that make me to leave the window shut.
Her dress an orange shining brighter than the summer sun. She had her window open, which makes her hair travels to me. Despite the dust and heat meeting her face, its still glowing like a lava covered with dust in the midnight.
Her hair dances and flies like a horizontal wallfalls. Her first reflection reminds me the french paiting i saw the other day at the art museum. Its been an hour. Her skin was smooth and pale, evoking the allure of a French beauty.
She sat with a serene grace, gazing out the window at the passing scenery with pensive eyes. As the light danced across her features, it accentuated her high cheekbones and plump lips.
Her slender fingers tapped rhythmically on edge of the window as she contemplated the world outside, lost in thought.
Brain tries to comprehend the situation, trying to put that beauty into words yet some cannot be described just experienced.
© davence_hackwell
#Love&love #WritcoQuote #writcoapp #Love&love💞 #writer
After reaching the event place I never expected that many people there, probably i never saw that many people in a single place except the warfares. I waited too long like 6 hrs to get my name called finnally it happened. My be dopamine kicks in only upto expectation, after the reward I felt pretty normal so normal. Like it never happned.
Now its time, way back to work from home. I booked a bus ticket which I always do. Its a 4 hour long journey. so I keep a time traveling device ie, a crime novel in my bag. This time its "The Girl On The Train" by paula hawkins. The one which i took from the "Yet to read shelf".
I always book the corner seat. I hate the wind in summer as it brings his friends heat and dust to settle on my face. Yet i love the veiw from the window rather than the aisle. Everything comes with the cost eyy!
I checked my seat number 11. The only knowledge of booking seats has been evolved after several trips. Like based on the season and the timing of travel I look for the direction of sun, means which side of the bus get more light more heat based on that i book the otherside. In my case from home to work its right side which gets less heat. From the work to home its the other side.
I took the seat no. 11 and the window is shut. Its the tinted black glass. After arranging my bag and stuff I took my novel to read along the way.
I tried to open the window glass to meet the sun's kiss. Thats when I saw the reflection of a face on it. The face which is spotless, perhaps its only the side of it i am able to feel. Its the face, that make me to leave the window shut.
Her dress an orange shining brighter than the summer sun. She had her window open, which makes her hair travels to me. Despite the dust and heat meeting her face, its still glowing like a lava covered with dust in the midnight.
Her hair dances and flies like a horizontal wallfalls. Her first reflection reminds me the french paiting i saw the other day at the art museum. Its been an hour. Her skin was smooth and pale, evoking the allure of a French beauty.
She sat with a serene grace, gazing out the window at the passing scenery with pensive eyes. As the light danced across her features, it accentuated her high cheekbones and plump lips.
Her slender fingers tapped rhythmically on edge of the window as she contemplated the world outside, lost in thought.
Brain tries to comprehend the situation, trying to put that beauty into words yet some cannot be described just experienced.
© davence_hackwell
#Love&love #WritcoQuote #writcoapp #Love&love💞 #writer
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