Synchronicity (Part 8)

8:03

They stood at the bus stop, silent and still, taking in the sights and sounds of the morning. Mornings were beautiful for some but not for others – that’s how it was for everything. For the two of them, at least, this morning was glorious.

The bus rolled up at 8:03.

“Who is it?” Sarrah asked. “Can’t see.”

Tim peered through the glass. “Oh, it’s her, it’s her…”

The door opened, and the bus driver got out of her seat and came to stand at the entrance.

“Good morning,” the driver said amiably.

“Sure is,” Tim replied with his usual cheer.

The driver fished in her pocket. “Thanks for helping me with that thing the other day… here, let me pay you back.” She extended her arm and dropped a ten dollar bill and a pile of quarters into Tim’s hand.

Sarrah smiled widely. “It was no problem.”

“Come on in.”

The driver returned to her seat. Tim boarded after her and started feeding the quarters into the payment slot; Sarrah wandered off towards the empty rows in the back.

“Here,” she decided aloud. She let down her huge pack next to the window and sat down in the neighboring aisle seat. Tim, when he had finished paying their fare, did the same across from her.

“Air conditioning is glorious,” Tim murmured softly.

Sarrah sighed. “I hope it rains.”

“You were just saying you wished it wouldn’t rain!”

“Yeah, but now we’re on a bus, so now it’s allowed to rain.”

“I don’t think it’s going to rain. There’s no clouds.”

“Whatever. It can still rain.”

Their bantering went on and on, a steady, soft chatter, and anyone witnessing it would have been hard-pressed to believe that there existed anyone happier.

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