corner of her street, she recalls last night's events. A shudder. She hates to remember. She pulls out her iPod and cell phone, the later of which she drops to the cement.
"Damn." It seems that this has become a daily ritual.
Picking it up, dusting it off, she slips the headphones to her iPod in and shuffles her play list. Coincidentally, she decides to look over last night's texts. They're all business. Money settlements, compromising times with prices. Except for the second from the newest. This one is from an unknown number. Last night has just come back. She remembers the unexpected text, and reopens the message.
The same message stares back at her.
Slowly and carefully, as if a wrong move will result in the phone biting her, she presses 'reply' and begins her message.
'hey, srry about last night. i was sooooo exhausted i fell asleep at 9 30'
SEND.
'Now, we wait.'
She looks up at the sky. Quickly, she lowers her gaze to the concrete in front of her, realizing how cliché and ridiculous that must have looked.
Car tires and a motor. The school bus approaches. How anyone could ever miss a bus, she will never understand. The yellow strikes her as so unbelievably intrusive.
The bus driver opens the door and she starts towards the door.
A vibration. In her pocket. He has responded.
"Damn." It seems that this has become a daily ritual.
Picking it up, dusting it off, she slips the headphones to her iPod in and shuffles her play list. Coincidentally, she decides to look over last night's texts. They're all business. Money settlements, compromising times with prices. Except for the second from the newest. This one is from an unknown number. Last night has just come back. She remembers the unexpected text, and reopens the message.
The same message stares back at her.
Slowly and carefully, as if a wrong move will result in the phone biting her, she presses 'reply' and begins her message.
'hey, srry about last night. i was sooooo exhausted i fell asleep at 9 30'
SEND.
'Now, we wait.'
She looks up at the sky. Quickly, she lowers her gaze to the concrete in front of her, realizing how cliché and ridiculous that must have looked.
Car tires and a motor. The school bus approaches. How anyone could ever miss a bus, she will never understand. The yellow strikes her as so unbelievably intrusive.
The bus driver opens the door and she starts towards the door.
A vibration. In her pocket. He has responded.
