Eavesdropping on Wednesday Mornings

By , Stafford, VA
The church steeple was the same color of the sky
The air was suffocating this morning.
Too much fog.
The bus drew to a stop and two underclassmen girls slid into the seat behind me.
“Yeah and then he cheated on her with Christie.
Dang—seriously?
That’s harsh.”
I breathed in the frosted glass
And drew a single line with my finger.
“How could she fall in love with a guy that does that?”
I flinched at the word. She just said it so casually.
The condensation teared on the window.
I regretted taking the bus this morning.
“I don’t know. She was crying all night though.
Christie is such a b****.”

I unlocked my phone and looked at the messages from my friend the other night.
“Its okay hun, everything will be okay.
“Don’t think about it.

Hes an a******.”

The diesel leveled out as the bus came to a stop. Everyone in the front stood up.
I shoved my phone into my jacket pocket, nestled my scarf closer to my neck and forced my legs to straighten.

The sky was still orange and purple as the fog hugged around the huge brick building.

The trees were stark black.
Like someone tore into heaven.

“Too much fog.. “
The bell rang and I trudged into hell.





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