Thursday

No, he doesn't Claire. Not since the beginning of this year, guess he was either a second or third year. I suppose I shall never know who he was - one of life's little mysteries.

And an insight into my mind, indeed. I think it's one of my few pieces written in my natural tone. Thank you for reading it dear sister xx

So then heath? Does he still sit next to you?

Thought this was great! An insight into your mind (-;

Thanks everyone!

xyberangel - I know and I think that's why I wrote about him. I mean, if the very embodiment of mystery decides to sit next to a writer, how can he expect her to not write about him?

Azila - thank you! You're right on all cases so I shall do some fixing in a minute. And I would add more description except, it was quite a while ago now and I think the boy must have been a second year because I haven't seen him since last year. There again, Hannah comes in on a Thursday now and when she's not there I sit with Beth, Tazz, Lucy and Luke so maybe that scared him away?

Twit - Thank you! I'll fix that immediately.

Really good!

There was hardly anything to pick out, as all the others have said and praised. There was only one thing:

I took my book from my bag and began to read. A shadow passed over me and, without waiting for him to speak, I took my bag from the chair and he sat next to me.

This is pretty good! As others have said, it's easy to read and flows very nicely. I think there could be a tad more description--of the boy, the bus, maybe even the scenery outside the window--but that's just my opinion, of course.

Also, where does this mystery boy get off the bus? That might be a good detail to add as well.

kitty15 wrote:Earlier today, I chose a seat near the front of the bus and placed my bag beside me. Then I remembered that it was Thursday and there was no need to save a seat because Hannah doesn't start college until the afternoon. I left the bag there anyway. I always do.

kitty15 wrote:Preparing for the long journey, I took my book from my bag and began to read.

kitty15 wrote:I refer to him as he because I don't know his name.

kitty15 wrote:At first, I thought nothing of it; he wasn't the first to occupy the vacant seat, not everyone minds sitting next to a girl who pays more attention to her book than you.

kitty15 wrote:The third time... Well the bus was practically empty.

Its really good and I love the descriptions. The guy does seem mysterious and even to the end you dont no what he's thinking, or how it should be interupted.

Thanks for pointing that out Reyu and thanks for reading =)

kitty15 wrote:Earlier today, I chose a seat near the front of the bus and placed my bag beside me. Then I remembered that it was Thursday and there was no need to save a seat because Hannah doesn't start college until the afternoon. I left the bag there anyway. I always do.

The bus pulled away from Brayton and swayed through the various villages where it makes its stops. Preparing for the long journey, I took my book from my bag and began to read. A shadow passed over me and, without waiting for him to speak, I took my bag from the chair and he sat next to me.

I refer to him as he because I don't know his name. He sits there every Thursday without fail. At first, I thought nothing of it; he wasn't the first to occupy the vacant seat, not everyone minds sitting next to a girl who pays more attention to her book than you. The second time, I presumed that all the other seats were taken. I didn't waste the energy to turn around and look. The third time... Well the bus was practically empty. Not only were there seats next to better looking, more sociable people but there were rows of empty seats. That's when I started to wonder.

Now many months have passed and his only words to me have been 'Can I sit here?'

I have made a few attempts to get to know him. I turn to face him sometimes and catch him looking at me. Then, in an [s]embarressed[/s] silence, the words upon my tongue will slip away and I will hastily look toward the window. From the corner of my eye, his impassive face shows no sign of unease. Sometimes the bus sways and he tumbles into me, his flesh brushing against my skin and I mumble an apology. He takes his time sitting back up and still his mask is in place. No words pass his lips, no flicker of emotion.

Other times I've steeled myself to talk to him. To ask him his name. I turn and find that his eyes stare forward. Is he ignoring me? Or does he not notice. Either way, the courage to speak evades me and I turn away once more.

Why does he sit there? I wish I knew.

Lol. Perhaps I shall

You're welcome.

But isn't it wonderful ? You managed to write a story that can be taken in two different ways without even wanting to. Perhaps you should pretend you did that on purpose ? ^^

On the technical point, you're completely correct so my thanks for bringing that to my attention and as to if he's blind, I don't think he is but it's an interesting theory.

Very touching, but I'm just wondering : is the guy actually blind ? I understood it that way because of the very end : "I turn and find that his eyes stare forward."

That would explain everything, but maybe I'm just going too far in my interpretation ^^

Oh, and I also found this :

the various villages where it makes it's stops

Thanks so much for the comments everyone =)

it's fabulous. easy to read and very fluent. very descriptive too. a beautifully written piece.

Brilliant.I loved it. It was really descriptive, and, as always, beautifully written. I'm useless at this kind of piece, so I'm completely awe-struck. Well done!

I like it It is really easy to read and interesting.

This is awesome. Very easy to read, fluent. Not particularly important, but it still says I a lot. I loved it.