They get on the bus every morning.
She is dark and exotic looking with long, curly black hair. She seems young and playful and fun; like she’d keep you in stitches if you went out for drinks with her. She has a collection of big, bright, shiny purses – red, yellow, green, orange.
He is husky and pale and slow and lumbering and seems much older than she is. His hair is light ginger and cropped short. He wears black dress pants every day – even on weekends. He always speaks a little too loudly, in a pedantic monotone. He looks like a guy everyone made fun of as a kid.
As soon as they sit down, he puts his arm around her and they ride that way – laughing and arguing lightly about inconsequential things like whether or not they’re out of soda or whether it’s going to rain on the weekend – all the way to the terminal where he has to get off. She lets him win every argument. It clearly pleases him.
Just before the bus pulls into the stop, the farewell ritual begins. They kiss loudly, five or six times making “mwah, mwah” smoochy noises.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too, “she says.
“Call me when you get to work,” he says.
“I will,” she says.
“I’ll have my cell phone on all day,” he says.
“I know,” she says.
“Call me,” he says.
“I will,” she says.
They kiss loudly a few more times making “mwah, mwah” smoochy noises.
He stands up.
“Have a good day,” he says.
“You too,” she says.
He leans over to kiss her, loudly twice more, making “mwah, mwah” smoochy noises both times.
He gets off the bus and stands smiling, with his small widely-spaced teeth and thin lips, and waves at her as the bus pulls away.
If she’s on the right side, she presses her hand on the window and smiles back at him.
Her teeth are large and white and her mouth always looks like it’s just been kissed.
XUP 