Young Love by

Mystery Jets

I realized how everyone has their quirks. While waiting at the bus stop, there was a guy who was avoiding the attack of windblown balloons but he looked silly while doing it. A guy is writing about some suicide murder thing for screenwriting class. I did a 10 shot assignment concerned with my plush dinosaur.

I can't help to think of how small this peculiar world is. I saw this guy in the equipment room. He was somehow cute but his voice was strange. He was trying to decide whether or not he should carry the school equipment home. The guy was asking if he should bring a tripod too. I told him that I carried it and yes, theft is a concern. But what the hay, you want a still shot, bring the tripod. Later that day, I was walking with my friend a different way, I went up the block and saw the kid. I missed him by literally seconds. There's a strange way we all collide.

I got on my bus home but it was crowded. While standing, my eyes panned around the bus to catch this man looking up at me. He had dark hair, soft features, and that nose. It wasn't big necessarily but it just stuck out for some reason. He must have been 28. The man had something youthful while he looked not far from 30. I couldn't tell. But I didn't care. I looked around to find a cheesy looking guy staring at me. Everting eyes is always good. That guy was weird.

People got off the bus and like musical chairs, people shuffled around. I quickly sat down and saw the nosed guy look at me. I glanced back at him, slightly smiled, and looked at anything else. The pole, the window, the bus driver, or people's shoes. When I stopped looking around, I looked up at him. And he immediately looked at me. It was awkward.

Normally, I would smile and make conversation. This was just strange. What made it more awkward than I imagined was when each time I looked at him, he would be already looking at me or getting ready to. I wasn't as spooked as I was intrigued. Why did this funny nose guy keep looking at me? I wasn't even the one sitting directly across from him. Suddenly, he pulled the long yellow string for the next stop. I glanced at him while he also looked at me. I was a little sad. His deep burnt amber shoes that looks like a pair in my closet. The way he looks around. His off colored socks like the socks I wear that once was thrown in the washer with a pink satin nightgown. He was the only one on my bus ride home that reminded me of me. Not in a vain sense, in an understanding way.