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Heels Outside The Bus Terminal

by arckaived


Author’s Note

I’m a storyteller. From my day to day life to the things I put down on the page, there isn’t a second of a day that goes by that my mind isn’t actively in motion curating ideas to further expand on. Submitting in creative writing isn’t something I’m a stranger to and it was suggested to me to hand in some kind of fictional piece. I was hesitant because it’s been done to death. I've driven that kind of assignment well into the ground, however fictional pieces oftentimes are the most fun for me to write because it gives me a chance to play. Being someone with a creative yet active mind leaves you with endless possibilities outside of the writer’s and creative blocks that surely follow close behind. This will have been the first purely fictional story I’ve written in some time now and aforementioned, everything I put forth in this story may be curated within my head, that doesn’t make it any less relatable to our modern society. The inspiration for this story came from real life experiences I have on a regular basis of taking notice of the homeless people locally within my area, as well as the rapidly growing homeless population rate. The title of this piece “Heels Outside the Bus Terminal” came from the pair of nude colored heels perched delicately upon a suitcase that was sitting outside of my local bus terminal. I found the whole scene quite interesting but in a way poetic. What I hope readers are able to take away from this story are the real life issues encased in fictional stories. I want this story to leave you thinking, my personal favorite pieces of literature shift the gears in my head. This piece about observations, two people equal yet entirely different, real world issues such as homelessness, sex work, mental illness, addiction, love, curiosity and emotional attachment. Lastly I would like to note that this piece will not be structured like an average novel would be. I wanted this story to feel more personal, more realistic and authentic. This story will be formatted like a journal. A collection of journal entries written by the main character Finn to help in the understanding of his observations as well as his internal emotions towards supporting character Sydney.

November 27th

It’s rather rainy today. I'm sheltered within this bus terminal. It’s cold out and even my long black overcoat does not suffice. The interior of the terminal feels outdated. The egg shell white walls act as a backdrop for the tacky mustard yellow seats. The light fixtures that hang from above have seen better days. Half no longer work and have yet to be replaced. It’s so dreary and reeks of cigarette smoke.

I’m exhausted. Lately my days seem to drag on draining me out completely. It’s the same routine everyday, I sometimes itch for excitement. I feel disconnected from my peers, like an outsider looking in, dissociated from my own life watching it as if it were some kind of motion picture. I don’t get out much aside from my commute to and from work everyday. As repulsed as I am by the inside of this terminal, in some oddly familiar way it’s like my solace. As I sit here patiently awaiting the bus, no one expects anything from me. Not my time, nor energy and most certainly not my communication. One could say I’m something of a recluse, I just prefer peace and quiet. The world is so loud.

I just noticed the large terminal doors don’t ever fully close so there always seems to be a draft entering through.

It’s only 6pm however the sun disappeared slowly over the passing hours. The street lights are on as they line the sidewalk outside, exuding this sort of yellowish glow.

I’ve occupied this entire building alone as not a single person has come and gone since I’ve been seated here. I like that. I like being alone. Never an interruption. The bus is here now. Until tomorrow.

November 28th

The first snow of the year has fallen. Every road and sidewalk is blanketed, it’s quite beautiful. However the air is cold, dry. I’m thankful for the warmth of the terminal (aside from the aforementioned unwelcomed draft due to the doors that just won’t close).

I’m not alone as I sit here today. An elderly woman just entered. She has a weathered look, someone who’s best years were certainly behind her. She sat down across from me, unloading multiple blankets onto the seat beside her. Her hair was grey and in some places balding, her skin looked worn out in the same way an old pair of leather boots would be. She looked tired and malnourished like she hadn’t seen a crumb of food in the last week. She leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath. I could see how truly exhausted she was, especially having carried around the blankets and a few plastic grocery bags full of what I could only assume is canned food.

It’s now 6pm and the sun has once again vanished, darkening the outside. The woman who I now share the space with is asleep against the window. The bus should be here soon, I want to wake her but I can tell by the tranquillity on her face that she is in need of a good rest.

A young woman just came in. She doesn’t look much older than me, early 20s maybe. She took notice of the elderly woman. She woke her up and is now pulling something out of her beat up leather purse. It’s a cigarette.

She handed it to the woman before taking one of her blankets, wrapping it around her slender frame. She’s underdressed for the weather. In a bodycon black dress that doesn’t go any further past her upper thighs. A kind of nude, creamy coloured pair of high heels that seems to be in the best condition out of everything she has on. Her skin is fair with olive undertones, brown eyes with long enough lashes to notice from a distance. Her hair is black and unkempt but otherwise straight and mid length falling just above her elbows. The only proper attire for the cold weather that she has on is a brown penni lane jacket with fur lining the collar.

She kissed the old woman on the head before walking out. She’s now standing outside of the terminal on the curb, tightening the wrapped blanket around her body. Her legs are long and anatomically the perfect shape, slender and toned in a way.

The bus is here now. Time to board. The old woman didn’t get up, she’s asleep once again.

I took my usual window seat on the bus nearest to the back. The young woman is still standing on the curb, moving her legs back and forth whilst standing in place. She must be so cold.

A car just pulled up. She’s leaned down, most of her upper body from what I can see is inside the passenger window. She took a step back and smiled at whoever was in the driver’s seat. Her smile is radiant, bright.

I watched the headlights turn on as the bus began driving away from the terminal. She got into the car and they drove off.

I’ve never felt this kind of curiosity towards another person before. It’s strange. The whole scene was rather odd, but in a way I feel compelled to know more. After this observation I can only make assumptions on these people, their stories. Maybe the old woman was the girl’s grandmother. Maybe they didn’t know each other at all- explaining the kiss on the forehead and the taking of the blanket wouldn’t make sense if they didn’t. Hm.

I’m tired. Until tomorrow.

November 29th

It’s midnight and I can’t sleep. The bus let me off at my usual stop and I made my way back to my apartment. It’s rather small, quite quaint in my opinion. I finished out the evening with my usual routine however I felt entirely too preoccupied to fully grasp the things I was doing.

As mentioned in what should have been my one and only entry for the day, I spoke of the strange feeling I’ve been left with since encountering that woman. Having never seen her before of course I’m curious of who she may be but in a way so different compared to anyone else I observe.

I asked myself questions about her, made assumptions, and even still I can’t articulate it.

I feel as though a lot of the time I can’t help but feel drawn to people and situations that appear to strain so far away from my very average, quiet, reserved life. Thinking about encountering her again excites me. I can’t quite explain it.

November 29th

Another day has come to pass. As I walked from work to the terminal the snow crunched underneath my feet. Each step I took I couldn’t imagine it being able to get any colder.

Now nestled in my usual seat furthest away from the doors. I’m slowly starting to warm up.

I can see the streetlights outside illuminating the tops of the passing cars and mounds of snow piled up along the curbs.

Someone just came into the terminal... It’s her.

She just sat down in a seat on the opposite side of me, similarly to the old woman from yesterday. We’re the only two people in this entire building, the silence is louder than any words either of us could speak of right now.

She’s wearing the same thing she was yesterday. She’s sitting in the chair, back pressed against the wall as one of her legs is crossed over the other.I’m able to get a better look at her today than I was yesterday.

Her hair is tied up in a sort of messy kind of updo, her makeup is smudged and you can definitely tell she slept in it. Her legs are covered in small bruises all over. As my eyes trail up to her face I catch a glimpse of her neck hidden by the fur collar of her jacket, it’s covered in those same bruises.

She can’t sit still for very long. She fidgets a lot in her seat. She just looked over at me. I stayed looking at her.

I broke our eye contact first.. I got nervous. I figured maybe she caught me staring at her. When I was looking at her I tired fully taking in the details of her face.

Her eyes, covered in smudged black eyeliner, were entrancing, yet tired looking. Her face is slightly sunken in and she has bags under her eyes that are a sort of faded reddish purple colour. Her lips are full but dry looking, cracking in certain spots. Her lipstick is smeared slightly onto her lower cheek. Her face has a youthful, innocent kind of beauty to it. All her features sit in harmony with one another.

She just pulled lipstick from her beat up purse, turning in her seat to use the terminal window as a mirror. She applied it smoothly as I watched her hands shake, her knuckles are red and match perfectly with her chipped nail polish.

I’m focused on her movements, how she wipes the smudged makeup off from under her eyes and around her mouth, and how she adjusts the top of her dress.

My bus seems to be running late.

She got up from her seat and walked past me to the single terminal bathroom. I feel my breath hitch ever so slightly in my chest.

She’s the embodiment of a Heart song.

A car just pulled up outside, parked at the curb just as yesterday, I turned my attention to the bathroom door where she exits from. I watched as she picked up speed slightly making her way to the terminal doors.

She just pulled up the hem of her dress slightly and let her hair down, falling onto her back messy as ever.

She walked outside and is now standing about five or ten feet from the still car.

She just slipped into the passenger seat as the engine came alive. Just like that, she’s gone again just as yesterday. I’m alone again with only my thoughts, questions and regrets.

I wish I could have spoken to her even if just for a quick second. I’m not one to start conversation nor am I ever urged to.

This is my second time encountering her and I think I feel in awe of her. I want to know who she is and most of all I regret not acting on my internal emotions. I don’t know why I keep stopping myself.

The bus is here now, I feel defeated, pathetic. Until Tomorrow.

November 30th

I’m on my way to work today and the terminal and surrounding area is busier than most mornings.

Older folks keep coming in and claiming whatever empty seats they can whilst other people seem to be mingling outside.

The old woman from a few days ago is back, blankets and a bag of canned food within her grasp.

She just sat down beside me. She’s resting her head against the wall as I scan over the people standing outside the terminal windows. Some look to be my age, some older, some even younger than me. They all look dishevelled, their faces red from the cold. I notice a man blowing into his hands to keep them warm whilst another man smokes away a cigarette.

I feel movement beside me. The old woman seems to be having trouble unfolding her blanket…

I offered her a slight friendly smile as I helped her unfold her blanket, I put it on her gently. She looked at me appreciatively.

A shiver just passed through me, I have only the terminal doors to blame.

The woman just asked me if I wanted one of her blankets to keep me warm, that was rather kind of her. I turned down her offer but not without thanking her.

She’s now mingling with locals seated on the other side of her. Turning my attention back to the window, there she is. Standing beside the guys from before, smoking a cigarette. Same jacket, different body con dress, distressed fishnets to add some kind of layer. She passes the cigarette around to the guys, I notice their eyes fixated on her. She laughs as I try to make out what they’re saying but I’m kidding myself.. Since when could I read lips?

I watch her laugh. Her open mouthed laugh and big grin that follows is warming.

I see one of the men pull something out from the inside of his jacket, handing it to her. She snatches it from his hand in a playful manner as he grabs her waist in a rather aggressive way. I look at her face and I can tell his actions made her uncomfortable. She pulled away and waved to him. She’s making her way into the terminal.

She’s walking towards me.

She approached the old woman next to me just as she did before. She shakes her gently as the old woman comes to and greets her with a smile.

She asked the woman to use one of her blankets. The woman didn’t think twice before handing it to her. She thanked her with a smile and a quick peck atop the woman’s head. In a playful, teasing kind of tone the woman said “You best be returning that to me when you’re done with it honey, you know I only got the three.”

I’m listening closely to their conversation. In a way I sort of feel wrong for eavesdropping but I may be able to find out more about her if I continue.

She begins to chuckle however this time I can hear it, it’s not blocked off by a window. I can hear the full tone in which she laughs and how she looks whilst doing it. She has the most infectious laugh.

She opens her mouth to speak as I sit next to the old woman continuing to write this as if I’m not intently listening.

“I will, I will. I only need it for tonight, I’ll be staying near Willshred, I’ll bring you back a pack in the morning.”

The old woman smiled at her. Where is Willshred? A pack of what? I had so many questions, I was beyond curious of her at this point. I feel like I could start blurting out my questions at any moment.

She folded the blanket and stuffed it under arm. She must have been looking at me because the old woman nudged my arm with her elbow. I turned to give her my attention as she nodded in the direction of her.

I looked at her whilst my body continued to tense up. She smiled at me as she spoke, her voice slightly raspy “It’s you again”.

I slightly smiled back as I didn’t know what else to do or say. You would think with how easily it is for me to pour everything out onto these pages, I should easily be able to do the same with another person but I can’t. I couldn’t.

Only after two encounters with one another, after paying attention to the details of her appearance and formulating this story in my head of who she is, I thought I was the only one here looking at her.

She’s taken notice of me. Maybe for all the right reasons, maybe for all the bad but just having this interaction with her is paralysing in a good way.

I can’t manage to get anything out to really say even though I had plenty. I nod my head as I continue to smile. She waves to the old woman before walking out of the terminal and down the street. I watch her walk through the window, where is she going?

The bus is here now, everyone is exiting the terminal to board.

I picked a window seat as per usual. I see the men she was talking to earlier still standing by the terminal. As the bus begins to pull away slowly from the curb I see them talking to a young girl who can’t be older than 17. I see the exchange. The money, the small plastic bag. I can’t quite make out what’s in it.

Until tomorrow.

































































December 1st

Today is the day. The day I’m determined to stop being such a coward and finally speak to her. I don’t know how, but I will…

I’m back again. You would think this terminal was my only place of residence. I spend more time here than I do my own home, more so lately than ever.

It’s busy again today. One of the pleasures of sitting in this terminal is the different walks of life you see. Every person looks different, moves differently, speaks differently from one another. I find it fascinating. No two stories are ever the same.

The old woman is here. She once again chose the seat next to me. I have the urge to speak to her as well but I don’t know what to say. However there is no need to initiate the conversation because she just did.

She turned to me and said, “You seem to frequent this place often, where are ya’ always goin’ hun?”

I held my fingers in between the pages of this journal to hold my place as I responded back, “Work usually. Not anywhere exciting in particular..” I let out an awkward chuckle to mask how nervous I was speaking.

Her face lit up with a smile as she tapped my knee, “Not exciting? Hun, that's great. I loved working when I was a youngin’ , it made me feel like I had a purpose.”

I smiled at her in return as my attention was immediately pulled away by her as she approached the old woman. I sat back in my seat and stole quick glances at her as she stood in front of the old woman and I. My knees are about five inches from her legs.

She just returned the old woman’s blanket and is now reaching into her bag. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one before giving the rest to the woman.

She just smiled back at the woman in a playful manner before claiming an empty seat in the terminal, opposite to where we sat.

I must have been staring at her. The old woman nudged my arm and nodded in the direction of where she sat, “You just gonna sit there staring or go talk to her hun?”

I looked at the woman before quickly glancing over at her. I smiled awkwardly before saying, “I’m not one for conversations… besides I wouldn’t know what to say.”

The old woman listened attentively to me before briefly looking over at her before turning her attention back to me and smiling.

“Does she intimidate you? If she does I don’t blame you, she’s rather fierce.. More so now than she was all those years ago when I first met her.”

I looked at the woman, my curiosity peaked by this slight insight into who this girl is.

I cleared my throat before leaning in closer to the old woman, “Maybe this isn’t my place to ask, however I could not lie and say I’m not curious. What’s her story?”

The old woman looked at her, “Why not ask her yourself?” She turned her focus to me, “It’s not my place to tell you someone else’s story. She is truly a light in this world and there aren’t many good people like her left.”

I look over at her as she’s making conversation with locals seated next to her. They smile and laugh along with her as they speak. Everytime I see her, she’s always wearing the same thing but it doesn’t take anything away.

I just looked beside me and the woman is gone. I didn’t even notice she had left.

I just checked my watch and the bus is late, again.

Wait, She’s walking over here.

She just sat down in the empty seat next to me. I feel like I could start hyperventilating at any moment.

I turned to look at her and kind of half smiled. She returned my action with an even bigger smile.

I looked down at the floor briefly whilst I cleared my throat before returning my attention to her face.

She then spoke, “I’ve talked to everyone else in this terminal aside from you, I figured it was only fair I came to say hi.”

I looked at her and then said, “Well…hi.”

She continued to smile at me, “You don’t seem like much of a talker.”

I chuckled nervously, “It’s quite obvious isn’t it?”

She squinted her eyes and sandwiched her index finger and thumb together playfully, “Just a little.”

I noticed myself chuckling.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until a little girl, no older than nine enters through the terminal doors. She’s only wearing a T-shirt and pants that don’t quite fit her lengthwise. I notice her observing the little girl just as I am. The little girl is approaching us.

She’s standing in front of us.

She’s small and the closer she got the more I was able to notice how dirty she was, malnourished. She is stick thin and I can see her shivering.

She smiles at the little girl and wipes some of the dirt off her face. I think she noticed the girl shivering, without hesitation she began taking off her brown, fur coat. She wrapped her coat around the little girl. It engulfed her little frame, hanging down around her ankles.

I looked over at her.

Without her coat I got a better look at her arms and neck area. She had bruises along her arms, her body con dress had no straps to hold it up so her constant adjustments I noticed early on made sense.

The little girl walked off with her coat.

That’s when I noticed them. The track marks on her arms.

The bus has finally arrived.

She got up and I noticed a shiver pass through her.

I smiled at her as I stood up from my seat, waiting for everyone else to exit the terminal to board the bus.

I took my long black coat off and held it out to her.

“To keep you warm.”

She took it from me. We walked out of the terminal and parted ways as I got onto the bus, she remained standing on the curb. My coat in her hands.

I’m beginning to understand what the woman meant when she said “She is truly a light in this world and there aren’t many good people like her left.”

Until tomorrow.

December 15th

It’s been a little over two weeks since my last entry. My days have stayed structurally the same, commuting to and from work everyday aside from the one major change.

She and I are casual friends. She told me her name, Sydney. I found it fitting.

We talked every time both of us happened to be here at the same time, I grew to be comfortable around her. I came to learn a lot about her without really learning anything at all.

The conversation I can recall deeply sticking with me was sometime last week when I took the old woman’s advice asking, “So may I ask, What’s your story?”

She chuckled nervously before beginning to confide in me. She didn’t have to tell me anything nor did she have to trust me but she did. That’s all I wanted.

“You mean all this?” She spun her finger around indicating the terminal, her lifestyle.

I nodded.

I noticed her hesitating before she began to speak, “It’s a long story.”

I responded with “I’m simply trying to see you, understand.”

She looked at me before smiling, “Do you have a dream?”

I looked at her slightly confused, I felt like I was probably wearing my expression on my face, “I’m sorry?”

She chuckled, “Do you have a dream?” she repeated.

I thought about what she was asking me before shaking my head, “I’m not sure what you mean exactly but no. I don’t think so”

She smiled at me with her big bright grin, “I do.”

I shot her a look or curiosity and she stood up from her seat in the otherwise empty terminal and elaborated.

“My dream is to be happy. To be so overcome with joy I wouldn’t know what to do with it first. I also want to be a mother. I have dreams of having a little me running around somewhere. My family would live in…”

She stopped what she was saying and I finished her sentence, “A house?”

She continued to smile, “Yes, a house.”

She sat back down and spoke deeply of her feelings, “I’ve been living out here since I was just a girl. My life was fucked up and the only safe place for me was out there. On those streets. I had to learn every life lesson out there on my own, no guidance, no one helping me along the way. I was alone. The people you always see surrounding this place are like my family. Chosen. There’s a network between us, unspoken rules we live by out here that help us get by. If you have something someone else out here needs, you provide it no matter how badly YOU need it. We help each other, we pick each other up and guide each other like any regular family would. Rather than having one set of parents I have several, I see it as a blessing. I may not be rich in money but I am in the family I have out there on those streets. The streets are unforgiving but having people who can forgive your mistakes is warmer than any blanket I could borrow or steal from a store.”

She sighed before continuing, “You seem pretty observant for not being much of a talker so you’ve probably seen me out there on that curb. Before you assume anything just know, I’m working my job. I’m making money just like any other person you see come in and out of this terminal who works a nine to five job. It’s not traditional but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. Most of the people out there, living in big houses and making 35,000 a year, define me as nothing more than the dirt they walk on. I don’t blame them because appearances are everything, I’m not who they think I am.”

I listened to her attentively and I could see how misunderstood she’s been by the general public, shamed.

I learned things about her life that I didn’t know but little did she know how deeply she was letting me see into her mind, her heart, her soul.

That conversation we had among the others filled my heart with a sense of warmth. She was like anyone else however playing the game of life with a harder hand of cards.

I enjoyed being around her a lot. I wanted to be around her all the time, listen to her talk all the time.

She didn’t show up today. The bus is here now, until tomorrow.

January 5th

It’s been a long time but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.

I haven’t seen Sydney since before christmas. I find it kind of strange but I understand that she must be working and making her way from place to place.

My days at the terminal feel uneventful without her. I look forward to seeing her and learning more about her but when she isn’t around I find myself missing her greatly.

I don’t really know what else to write about, my mind always comes back to Sydney. Wondering where she is, how she’s doing, who she’s encountering.

The bus is here now and I don’t feel as though I have the brain capacity to comprehend anything at work today.

Until tomorrow.

January 6th

Sydney died Christmas morning.

I kept coming to the terminal as usual wondering when we would see each other again. I found it strange she hadn’t shown up at the terminal for several weeks. It wasn’t her usual pattern I had taken notice of.

Christmas evening I skipped the bus ride home and decided to walk instead. I passed the terminal on my way since it was in that general direction and I noticed several police cars parked outside. I was confused but didn’t think much of it but in hindsight I probably should have.

Sydney overdosed that morning.

The next time I was seated in the terminal I was completely unaware of what had happened to her. The old woman was there and seemed to be in serious distress. I didn’t want to pry so I didn’t ask what was wrong.

Sydney was heartbreakingly human. A beautiful light thrown into a world of sheer darkness. Her life seemed bleak to those who saw from the outside but I got to know her. I was blessed with her openness to me, her trust in me to tell me about her life, her struggles and her dreams. She wanted to start a family, she wanted to be a mom and she was hopeful she would make it off the streets someday. I was hopeful for her.

I’ve never known anyone like Sydney. She was warm, she was radiant, she was optimistic even when she had more than enough reasons not to be. She was beautiful, truthful and never downplayed her situations to me when we spoke. Her heart and soul were worth knowing. I loved being able to see her.

I don’t know what my life will entail without her presence in it anymore.

The bus is here, I must stop writing now. Until tomorrow.

Epilogue

Finn’s journal sat empty after Sydney’s death. He didn’t wish to continue writing any further. Putting his journal in a shoe box and placing it in a drawer, never to see the light of day again. Sydney died wearing the coat Finn gave to her to keep her warm. He did not return to that Bus Terminal again.









The End. 


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Sat May 18, 2024 11:22 pm
KateHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This is an incredibly powerful tale. I think your decision to use a journal format really elevated this tremendously into a completely different tone that really works for this tragedy that you paint for us here. The characters are so powerful here and Finn's perspective really paints for us a very human tale of a young woman whose dream get cut short.

Anyway let's get right to it,

It’s rather rainy today. I'm sheltered within this bus terminal. It’s cold out and even my long black overcoat does not suffice. The interior of the terminal feels outdated. The egg shell white walls act as a backdrop for the tacky mustard yellow seats. The light fixtures that hang from above have seen better days. Half no longer work and have yet to be replaced. It’s so dreary and reeks of cigarette smoke.

I’m exhausted. Lately my days seem to drag on draining me out completely. It’s the same routine everyday, I sometimes itch for excitement. I feel disconnected from my peers, like an outsider looking in, dissociated from my own life watching it as if it were some kind of motion picture. I don’t get out much aside from my commute to and from work everyday. As repulsed as I am by the inside of this terminal, in some oddly familiar way it’s like my solace. As I sit here patiently awaiting the bus, no one expects anything from me. Not my time, nor energy and most certainly not my communication. One could say I’m something of a recluse, I just prefer peace and quiet. The world is so loud.


Well this is a nice little start. Not completely the typical journal style of keeping to a sort of summary of a day but we're seeing something a little more observational. Its a lovely place to start sort of gentle establishing a little bit about this person and their state in life and their immediate surroundings.

I just noticed the large terminal doors don’t ever fully close so there always seems to be a draft entering through.

It’s only 6pm however the sun disappeared slowly over the passing hours. The street lights are on as they line the sidewalk outside, exuding this sort of yellowish glow.

I’ve occupied this entire building alone as not a single person has come and gone since I’ve been seated here. I like that. I like being alone. Never an interruption. The bus is here now. Until tomorrow.


Hmm well that was a neat little stare, just establishing a typical day in this framework and how it pans out there. I think you've gone and done quite a neat job there to create so much of a word in quite this little and to make it seem this journal is written specifically while sitting in this one spot per day.

The first snow of the year has fallen. Every road and sidewalk is blanketed, it’s quite beautiful. However the air is cold, dry. I’m thankful for the warmth of the terminal (aside from the aforementioned unwelcomed draft due to the doors that just won’t close).

I’m not alone as I sit here today. An elderly woman just entered. She has a weathered look, someone who’s best years were certainly behind her. She sat down across from me, unloading multiple blankets onto the seat beside her. Her hair was grey and in some places balding, her skin looked worn out in the same way an old pair of leather boots would be. She looked tired and malnourished like she hadn’t seen a crumb of food in the last week. She leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath. I could see how truly exhausted she was, especially having carried around the blankets and a few plastic grocery bags full of what I could only assume is canned food.


Hmm well we're slowly plodding along into another day this time the scene changing slightly to another common sight that you'd see in a place like that. So far this setup is going along quite nicely here.

It’s now 6pm and the sun has once again vanished, darkening the outside. The woman who I now share the space with is asleep against the window. The bus should be here soon, I want to wake her but I can tell by the tranquillity on her face that she is in need of a good rest.

A young woman just came in. She doesn’t look much older than me, early 20s maybe. She took notice of the elderly woman. She woke her up and is now pulling something out of her beat up leather purse. It’s a cigarette.

She handed it to the woman before taking one of her blankets, wrapping it around her slender frame. She’s underdressed for the weather. In a bodycon black dress that doesn’t go any further past her upper thighs. A kind of nude, creamy coloured pair of high heels that seems to be in the best condition out of everything she has on. Her skin is fair with olive undertones, brown eyes with long enough lashes to notice from a distance. Her hair is black and unkempt but otherwise straight and mid length falling just above her elbows. The only proper attire for the cold weather that she has on is a brown penni lane jacket with fur lining the collar.


Oooh well this is quite an appearance there. You can certainly think of a lot of things about both woman from just that description and then on top of it all we also have ourselves the way they seem to be related to each other as well.

She kissed the old woman on the head before walking out. She’s now standing outside of the terminal on the curb, tightening the wrapped blanket around her body. Her legs are long and anatomically the perfect shape, slender and toned in a way.

The bus is here now. Time to board. The old woman didn’t get up, she’s asleep once again.

I took my usual window seat on the bus nearest to the back. The young woman is still standing on the curb, moving her legs back and forth whilst standing in place. She must be so cold.

A car just pulled up. She’s leaned down, most of her upper body from what I can see is inside the passenger window. She took a step back and smiled at whoever was in the driver’s seat. Her smile is radiant, bright.

I watched the headlights turn on as the bus began driving away from the terminal. She got into the car and they drove off.


Oooh well this is quite the moment. We once again learn so much about exactly what it is that woman does and its all simply from describing what she's doing, no real special conclusions being drawn by our protagonist. I think that's a lovely way to do it with this particular format.

[quote\I’ve never felt this kind of curiosity towards another person before. It’s strange. The whole scene was rather odd, but in a way I feel compelled to know more. After this observation I can only make assumptions on these people, their stories. Maybe the old woman was the girl’s grandmother. Maybe they didn’t know each other at all- explaining the kiss on the forehead and the taking of the blanket wouldn’t make sense if they didn’t. Hm.

I’m tired. Until tomorrow.[/quote]

Well it seems like some interesting assumptions there for sure, quite close to my own except for the potential grandmother thing. This is certainly setting itself up really quite nicely here. Looking forward to seeing where exactly this is going to end up taking us.

It’s midnight and I can’t sleep. The bus let me off at my usual stop and I made my way back to my apartment. It’s rather small, quite quaint in my opinion. I finished out the evening with my usual routine however I felt entirely too preoccupied to fully grasp the things I was doing.

As mentioned in what should have been my one and only entry for the day, I spoke of the strange feeling I’ve been left with since encountering that woman. Having never seen her before of course I’m curious of who she may be but in a way so different compared to anyone else I observe.

I asked myself questions about her, made assumptions, and even still I can’t articulate it.

I feel as though a lot of the time I can’t help but feel drawn to people and situations that appear to strain so far away from my very average, quiet, reserved life. Thinking about encountering her again excites me. I can’t quite explain it.


Hmm well certainly an interesting little note there to end on. Just how much this one simple scene ended up affecting them to the point of those thoughts haunting their very sleep. Definitely makes you think quite a bit that one. It'll be quite intriguing to see how far this little interest goes.

Another day has come to pass. As I walked from work to the terminal the snow crunched underneath my feet. Each step I took I couldn’t imagine it being able to get any colder.

Now nestled in my usual seat furthest away from the doors. I’m slowly starting to warm up.

I can see the streetlights outside illuminating the tops of the passing cars and mounds of snow piled up along the curbs.

Someone just came into the terminal... It’s her.

She just sat down in a seat on the opposite side of me, similarly to the old woman from yesterday. We’re the only two people in this entire building, the silence is louder than any words either of us could speak of right now.


Oooh well it seems our protagonist here is going to get what they want here right away an that question that he had about her just might get something of an answer here. Or at the very least observe just a little bit more about exactly what it is that caught their attention.

She’s wearing the same thing she was yesterday. She’s sitting in the chair, back pressed against the wall as one of her legs is crossed over the other.I’m able to get a better look at her today than I was yesterday.

Her hair is tied up in a sort of messy kind of updo, her makeup is smudged and you can definitely tell she slept in it. Her legs are covered in small bruises all over. As my eyes trail up to her face I catch a glimpse of her neck hidden by the fur collar of her jacket, it’s covered in those same bruises.

She can’t sit still for very long. She fidgets a lot in her seat. She just looked over at me. I stayed looking at her.


Well that really tells you pretty much all the rest of the missing pieces of what was established yesterday. Certainly pretty difficult to think of any other direction that all of those signs could point to, and it seems we're reaching some sort of moment in all of this staring too.

I broke our eye contact first.. I got nervous. I figured maybe she caught me staring at her. When I was looking at her I tired fully taking in the details of her face.

Her eyes, covered in smudged black eyeliner, were entrancing, yet tired looking. Her face is slightly sunken in and she has bags under her eyes that are a sort of faded reddish purple colour. Her lips are full but dry looking, cracking in certain spots. Her lipstick is smeared slightly onto her lower cheek. Her face has a youthful, innocent kind of beauty to it. All her features sit in harmony with one another.

She just pulled lipstick from her beat up purse, turning in her seat to use the terminal window as a mirror. She applied it smoothly as I watched her hands shake, her knuckles are red and match perfectly with her chipped nail polish.

I’m focused on her movements, how she wipes the smudged makeup off from under her eyes and around her mouth, and how she adjusts the top of her dress.


Well it certainly looks like she caught them staring there. Its definitely an interesting little thought process once again how they're almost seeing her at her worst here before she masks herself to appear in her normal role again. Its quite the moment that they're sharing here.

My bus seems to be running late.

She got up from her seat and walked past me to the single terminal bathroom. I feel my breath hitch ever so slightly in my chest.

She’s the embodiment of a Heart song.

A car just pulled up outside, parked at the curb just as yesterday, I turned my attention to the bathroom door where she exits from. I watched as she picked up speed slightly making her way to the terminal doors.

She just pulled up the hem of her dress slightly and let her hair down, falling onto her back messy as ever.


Well it looks like she's definitely got work to do there so our protagonist is going to have to wait just a bit longer to see any more this currently fairly mysterious woman. The setup is really taking hold quite strongly here and I'm loving it so far.

She walked outside and is now standing about five or ten feet from the still car.

She just slipped into the passenger seat as the engine came alive. Just like that, she’s gone again just as yesterday. I’m alone again with only my thoughts, questions and regrets.

I wish I could have spoken to her even if just for a quick second. I’m not one to start conversation nor am I ever urged to.

This is my second time encountering her and I think I feel in awe of her. I want to know who she is and most of all I regret not acting on my internal emotions. I don’t know why I keep stopping myself.

The bus is here now, I feel defeated, pathetic. Until Tomorrow.


Well looks like there's a few regrets from that but I have a feeling given how much of this tale is still to come that our friend here is going to see her again and quite soon too although you never know if the courage to talk is going to actually happen.

I’m on my way to work today and the terminal and surrounding area is busier than most mornings.

Older folks keep coming in and claiming whatever empty seats they can whilst other people seem to be mingling outside.

The old woman from a few days ago is back, blankets and a bag of canned food within her grasp.

She just sat down beside me. She’s resting her head against the wall as I scan over the people standing outside the terminal windows. Some look to be my age, some older, some even younger than me. They all look dishevelled, their faces red from the cold. I notice a man blowing into his hands to keep them warm whilst another man smokes away a cigarette.


Well it looks like this is a bit of a busier day here. Love that detail just to show that several people to come and go through here and that there's not going to be just the same few people every day.

I feel movement beside me. The old woman seems to be having trouble unfolding her blanket…

I offered her a slight friendly smile as I helped her unfold her blanket, I put it on her gently. She looked at me appreciatively.

A shiver just passed through me, I have only the terminal doors to blame.

The woman just asked me if I wanted one of her blankets to keep me warm, that was rather kind of her. I turned down her offer but not without thanking her.

She’s now mingling with locals seated on the other side of her. Turning my attention back to the window, there she is. Standing beside the guys from before, smoking a cigarette. Same jacket, different body con dress, distressed fishnets to add some kind of layer. She passes the cigarette around to the guys, I notice their eyes fixated on her. She laughs as I try to make out what they’re saying but I’m kidding myself.. Since when could I read lips?


Well it seems our protagonist is a rather curious one here and is really getting quite captivated by this girl, wanting even to eavesdrop in on this conversation she's taking part in although that conversation certainly does appear to raise a couple of red flags.

I watch her laugh. Her open mouthed laugh and big grin that follows is warming.

I see one of the men pull something out from the inside of his jacket, handing it to her. She snatches it from his hand in a playful manner as he grabs her waist in a rather aggressive way. I look at her face and I can tell his actions made her uncomfortable. She pulled away and waved to him. She’s making her way into the terminal.

She’s walking towards me.

She approached the old woman next to me just as she did before. She shakes her gently as the old woman comes to and greets her with a smile.

She asked the woman to use one of her blankets. The woman didn’t think twice before handing it to her. She thanked her with a smile and a quick peck atop the woman’s head. In a playful, teasing kind of tone the woman said “You best be returning that to me when you’re done with it honey, you know I only got the three.”


Ooh well here we go we get another little look at this particular interaction except now it seems that we're going to be getting a little bit of dialogue from it. That should certainly help confirm what exactly is going on in here. Let's see where this ends up going.

I’m listening closely to their conversation. In a way I sort of feel wrong for eavesdropping but I may be able to find out more about her if I continue.

She begins to chuckle however this time I can hear it, it’s not blocked off by a window. I can hear the full tone in which she laughs and how she looks whilst doing it. She has the most infectious laugh.

She opens her mouth to speak as I sit next to the old woman continuing to write this as if I’m not intently listening.

“I will, I will. I only need it for tonight, I’ll be staying near Willshred, I’ll bring you back a pack in the morning.”

The old woman smiled at her. Where is Willshred? A pack of what? I had so many questions, I was beyond curious of her at this point. I feel like I could start blurting out my questions at any moment.


Well that is quite a consequence of eavesdropping, having absolutely no idea what people are actually talking about. It looks like our protagonist is going to be living with a lot of questions for some time since I doubt they're going to work up the courage to ask anything right now.

She folded the blanket and stuffed it under arm. She must have been looking at me because the old woman nudged my arm with her elbow. I turned to give her my attention as she nodded in the direction of her.

I looked at her whilst my body continued to tense up. She smiled at me as she spoke, her voice slightly raspy “It’s you again”.

I slightly smiled back as I didn’t know what else to do or say. You would think with how easily it is for me to pour everything out onto these pages, I should easily be able to do the same with another person but I can’t. I couldn’t.

Only after two encounters with one another, after paying attention to the details of her appearance and formulating this story in my head of who she is, I thought I was the only one here looking at her.


well it looks like our protagonist is getting noticed right back here at least by the old woman if not the younger one. Definitely makes for quite the moment here, it seems as we approach halfway a few changes are going to be happening here from the looks of it all.

She’s taken notice of me. Maybe for all the right reasons, maybe for all the bad but just having this interaction with her is paralysing in a good way.

I can’t manage to get anything out to really say even though I had plenty. I nod my head as I continue to smile. She waves to the old woman before walking out of the terminal and down the street. I watch her walk through the window, where is she going?

The bus is here now, everyone is exiting the terminal to board.

I picked a window seat as per usual. I see the men she was talking to earlier still standing by the terminal. As the bus begins to pull away slowly from the curb I see them talking to a young girl who can’t be older than 17. I see the exchange. The money, the small plastic bag. I can’t quite make out what’s in it.

Until tomorrow.


Well that exchange alone is absolutely terrifying but I don't blame our protagonist for not getting too involved in something that they really have hardly any context given they don't maybe seem too observant of all of those massive red flags waving about these interactions. Either that or is too scared in which case you could still probably not blame them too much even though you'd hope they'd at least notify someone better equipped to handle that like the authorities.

Today is the day. The day I’m determined to stop being such a coward and finally speak to her. I don’t know how, but I will…

I’m back again. You would think this terminal was my only place of residence. I spend more time here than I do my own home, more so lately than ever.

It’s busy again today. One of the pleasures of sitting in this terminal is the different walks of life you see. Every person looks different, moves differently, speaks differently from one another. I find it fascinating. No two stories are ever the same.

The old woman is here. She once again chose the seat next to me. I have the urge to speak to her as well but I don’t know what to say. However there is no need to initiate the conversation because she just did.


Hmm well it seems our protagonist is here with a mission here. Let's see where this is headed, it seems finally some sort of interaction might take place at least with the old woman if not the younger he's so enamored by.

She turned to me and said, “You seem to frequent this place often, where are ya’ always goin’ hun?”

I held my fingers in between the pages of this journal to hold my place as I responded back, “Work usually. Not anywhere exciting in particular..” I let out an awkward chuckle to mask how nervous I was speaking.

Her face lit up with a smile as she tapped my knee, “Not exciting? Hun, that's great. I loved working when I was a youngin’ , it made me feel like I had a purpose.”

I smiled at her in return as my attention was immediately pulled away by her as she approached the old woman. I sat back in my seat and stole quick glances at her as she stood in front of the old woman and I. My knees are about five inches from her legs.


Well here she comes, looks like this time's going to go by pretty much just the same as the last cause all of that newfound courage doesn't seem to be coming up to the fore in the moment here when she's actually here now.

She just returned the old woman’s blanket and is now reaching into her bag. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one before giving the rest to the woman.

She just smiled back at the woman in a playful manner before claiming an empty seat in the terminal, opposite to where we sat.

I must have been staring at her. The old woman nudged my arm and nodded in the direction of where she sat, “You just gonna sit there staring or go talk to her hun?”

I looked at the woman before quickly glancing over at her. I smiled awkwardly before saying, “I’m not one for conversations… besides I wouldn’t know what to say.”

The old woman listened attentively to me before briefly looking over at her before turning her attention back to me and smiling.


Oooh well this is interesting. It looks like just maybe the old woman is going to be a bit of a factor here this time and maybe she's manage to convince our protagonist here to finally go ahead and at the very least say hi. Let's see where this is going.

“Does she intimidate you? If she does I don’t blame you, she’s rather fierce.. More so now than she was all those years ago when I first met her.”

I looked at the woman, my curiosity peaked by this slight insight into who this girl is.

I cleared my throat before leaning in closer to the old woman, “Maybe this isn’t my place to ask, however I could not lie and say I’m not curious. What’s her story?”

The old woman looked at her, “Why not ask her yourself?” She turned her focus to me, “It’s not my place to tell you someone else’s story. She is truly a light in this world and there aren’t many good people like her left.”


Ooh well that's definitely quite the observation one that you can certainly see from the interactions that we saw with the old woman up to now although it seems she herself does go through a fairly harsh life.

I look over at her as she’s making conversation with locals seated next to her. They smile and laugh along with her as they speak. Everytime I see her, she’s always wearing the same thing but it doesn’t take anything away.

I just looked beside me and the woman is gone. I didn’t even notice she had left.

I just checked my watch and the bus is late, again.

Wait, She’s walking over here.

She just sat down in the empty seat next to me. I feel like I could start hyperventilating at any moment.

I turned to look at her and kind of half smiled. She returned my action with an even bigger smile.

I looked down at the floor briefly whilst I cleared my throat before returning my attention to her face.


Ooh here we go, this is going to get interesting indeed. I have to say that took quite a bit more of the story than I was expecting it to take there. Its definitely seems we'll have a conversation yet. Let's see what we're going to end up finding out.

She then spoke, “I’ve talked to everyone else in this terminal aside from you, I figured it was only fair I came to say hi.”

I looked at her and then said, “Well…hi.”

She continued to smile at me, “You don’t seem like much of a talker.”

I chuckled nervously, “It’s quite obvious isn’t it?”

She squinted her eyes and sandwiched her index finger and thumb together playfully, “Just a little.”

I noticed myself chuckling.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until a little girl, no older than nine enters through the terminal doors. She’s only wearing a T-shirt and pants that don’t quite fit her lengthwise. I notice her observing the little girl just as I am. The little girl is approaching us.


Well it seems our protagonist is rather shy but that was quite a neat little interaction. I wasn't expecting us to get quite this deep into the story before we would have them talk but I would say the wait has both made a lot of sense in a realism sense and been quite worth it.

She’s standing in front of us.

She’s small and the closer she got the more I was able to notice how dirty she was, malnourished. She is stick thin and I can see her shivering.

She smiles at the little girl and wipes some of the dirt off her face. I think she noticed the girl shivering, without hesitation she began taking off her brown, fur coat. She wrapped her coat around the little girl. It engulfed her little frame, hanging down around her ankles.

I looked over at her.

Without her coat I got a better look at her arms and neck area. She had bruises along her arms, her body con dress had no straps to hold it up so her constant adjustments I noticed early on made sense.


Well I think that's a perfect look at both what she has to do and the kind heart that she has which that old woman was talking about so proudly. I am loving just how much we can learn about her once again through pure action and not at all the talking.

The little girl walked off with her coat.

That’s when I noticed them. The track marks on her arms.

The bus has finally arrived.

She got up and I noticed a shiver pass through her.

I smiled at her as I stood up from my seat, waiting for everyone else to exit the terminal to board the bus.

I took my long black coat off and held it out to her.

“To keep you warm.”

She took it from me. We walked out of the terminal and parted ways as I got onto the bus, she remained standing on the curb. My coat in her hands.

I’m beginning to understand what the woman meant when she said “She is truly a light in this world and there aren’t many good people like her left.”

Until tomorrow.


Well that was quite the little exchange there. Hardly a word was said but it seems our protagonist has definitely made a connection here with this mysterious woman he's so enamored by. I have a feeling this is really going to step up quite a bit here.

wIt’s been a little over two weeks since my last entry. My days have stayed structurally the same, commuting to and from work everyday aside from the one major change.

She and I are casual friends. She told me her name, Sydney. I found it fitting.

We talked every time both of us happened to be here at the same time, I grew to be comfortable around her. I came to learn a lot about her without really learning anything at all.

The conversation I can recall deeply sticking with me was sometime last week when I took the old woman’s advice asking, “So may I ask, What’s your story?”

She chuckled nervously before beginning to confide in me. She didn’t have to tell me anything nor did she have to trust me but she did. That’s all I wanted.


Well it looks like they finally worked up the courage over the two weeks to really try and find out what exactly it is that their so curious about. Given how much Sydney here has been built up I have to say I am just about as curious about what she has to say here.

“You mean all this?” She spun her finger around indicating the terminal, her lifestyle.

I nodded.

I noticed her hesitating before she began to speak, “It’s a long story.”

I responded with “I’m simply trying to see you, understand.”

She looked at me before smiling, “Do you have a dream?”

I looked at her slightly confused, I felt like I was probably wearing my expression on my face, “I’m sorry?”

She chuckled, “Do you have a dream?” she repeated.

I thought about what she was asking me before shaking my head, “I’m not sure what you mean exactly but no. I don’t think so”


Well it looks like our protagonist here is a little stuck in their ways just kind of existing day to day while she's got something a little bit more in her head. This is definitely going to be quite an interesting little conversation.

[quoe]She smiled at me with her big bright grin, “I do.”

I shot her a look or curiosity and she stood up from her seat in the otherwise empty terminal and elaborated.

“My dream is to be happy. To be so overcome with joy I wouldn’t know what to do with it first. I also want to be a mother. I have dreams of having a little me running around somewhere. My family would live in…”

She stopped what she was saying and I finished her sentence, “A house?”

She continued to smile, “Yes, a house.”

She sat back down and spoke deeply of her feelings, “I’ve been living out here since I was just a girl. My life was fucked up and the only safe place for me was out there. On those streets. I had to learn every life lesson out there on my own, no guidance, no one helping me along the way. I was alone. The people you always see surrounding this place are like my family. Chosen. There’s a network between us, unspoken rules we live by out here that help us get by. If you have something someone else out here needs, you provide it no matter how badly YOU need it. We help each other, we pick each other up and guide each other like any regular family would. Rather than having one set of parents I have several, I see it as a blessing. I may not be rich in money but I am in the family I have out there on those streets. The streets are unforgiving but having people who can forgive your mistakes is warmer than any blanket I could borrow or steal from a store.”[/quote]

Well that's quite the little tale there. It seems our assumptions are pretty accurate although I don't know about how safe she makes it all sound given some of those more shady interactions that you see going down amongst everyone that's around here.

She sighed before continuing, “You seem pretty observant for not being much of a talker so you’ve probably seen me out there on that curb. Before you assume anything just know, I’m working my job. I’m making money just like any other person you see come in and out of this terminal who works a nine to five job. It’s not traditional but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. Most of the people out there, living in big houses and making 35,000 a year, define me as nothing more than the dirt they walk on. I don’t blame them because appearances are everything, I’m not who they think I am.”

I listened to her attentively and I could see how misunderstood she’s been by the general public, shamed.

I learned things about her life that I didn’t know but little did she know how deeply she was letting me see into her mind, her heart, her soul.

That conversation we had among the others filled my heart with a sense of warmth. She was like anyone else however playing the game of life with a harder hand of cards.

I enjoyed being around her a lot. I wanted to be around her all the time, listen to her talk all the time.

She didn’t show up today. The bus is here now, until tomorrow.


Well it seems our friend here is only getting more enamored with her as he goes on here and she does in fact seem to be a lovely woman with a dream. Her life is certainly mired in various more shady things but she seems to be just trying to do her very best.

It’s been a long time but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.

I haven’t seen Sydney since before christmas. I find it kind of strange but I understand that she must be working and making her way from place to place.

My days at the terminal feel uneventful without her. I look forward to seeing her and learning more about her but when she isn’t around I find myself missing her greatly.

I don’t really know what else to write about, my mind always comes back to Sydney. Wondering where she is, how she’s doing, who she’s encountering.

The bus is here now and I don’t feel as though I have the brain capacity to comprehend anything at work today.

Until tomorrow.


Well it looks like Sydney's gone missing for a little bit there right as they got to know each other. There's no way she would be missing for quite that long surely, not given how much of her work seemed to be taking place in that particular area.

Sydney died Christmas morning.

I kept coming to the terminal as usual wondering when we would see each other again. I found it strange she hadn’t shown up at the terminal for several weeks. It wasn’t her usual pattern I had taken notice of.

Christmas evening I skipped the bus ride home and decided to walk instead. I passed the terminal on my way since it was in that general direction and I noticed several police cars parked outside. I was confused but didn’t think much of it but in hindsight I probably should have.

Sydney overdosed that morning.

The next time I was seated in the terminal I was completely unaware of what had happened to her. The old woman was there and seemed to be in serious distress. I didn’t want to pry so I didn’t ask what was wrong.


Well given those track marks and everyone she was around that was maybe more inevitable than anyone would like to believe, that really does cast such a pall over everything and in such a short time to. Its amazing how hard the news hits for a character we've barely heard five lines of dialogue from.

Sydney was heartbreakingly human. A beautiful light thrown into a world of sheer darkness. Her life seemed bleak to those who saw from the outside but I got to know her. I was blessed with her openness to me, her trust in me to tell me about her life, her struggles and her dreams. She wanted to start a family, she wanted to be a mom and she was hopeful she would make it off the streets someday. I was hopeful for her.

I’ve never known anyone like Sydney. She was warm, she was radiant, she was optimistic even when she had more than enough reasons not to be. She was beautiful, truthful and never downplayed her situations to me when we spoke. Her heart and soul were worth knowing. I loved being able to see her.

I don’t know what my life will entail without her presence in it anymore.

The bus is here, I must stop writing now. Until tomorrow.


Well it definitely is a heartbreakingly human moment. I think you sum it up perfectly with those two words. Sydney the one who wanted a future and worked so hard for it dreaming and lighting up the world around her succumbs to a moment all to human. Well that's certainly a powerful ending there.

Finn’s journal sat empty after Sydney’s death. He didn’t wish to continue writing any further. Putting his journal in a shoe box and placing it in a drawer, never to see the light of day again. Sydney died wearing the coat Finn gave to her to keep her warm. He did not return to that Bus Terminal again.


Well it seems very safe to say that a lot of impact was left on Finn from Sydney, a very lasting impact that will haunt him forever. And the world around her too is left quite poorer for it.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall an incredibly powerful tale told through so much more action and description and letting us come to most of those conclusions. I think that is truly an incredible thing. I think the only way to sum it up is your own words. Heartbreakingly Human.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Kate




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Sat May 18, 2024 3:52 am
HildeMint wrote a review...



Oh my gosh.
This has to be the best thing i've read on this website, the journal style fits so much into one post, the way that every entry ends with Until Tomorrow, Sydney is a character who you inherently like, and Finn is one who you inherently understand.
It is written incredibly clearly, which i think comes from the simplicity of the story, and characters, but even though it is simple, it manages to have a lot of depth, you don't need to have lengthy descriptions of Finn's home life, or even what his job really is, because everything is written from the lens of the familiar, Sidney is a tragic character, and i lowkey did not expect her death, but it does make more sense that she dies, than lives.
I can describe this story in one word
Authentic
but that doesnt seem to do it justice





"I think; therefore, I am."
— René Descartes