Thursday, July 4, 2013

100 Words a Day 316

He tapped his foot. He looked around. He checked his watch. He stood at the bus stop. They were supposed to meet at noon. It was twelve thirty.

He was hopeful and continued waiting, stretching his neck and looking down the road, anxious for the next bus to arrive.

Buses came and went, but not her. His eagerness slowly turned to disappointment.

The anticipation turned bitter, but not an angry bitter. It was worse.

He grew more inconsolable with each step on the way home. He went straight up to his room, grateful no one was there to see him.

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