At
last her bus arrived. Stef went to her favourite seat behind the
side door and gratefully sat down, undoing her coat buttons as the
frosty chill outside was replaced by the fug of heated airlessness, stale cigarette smoke and body odour.
Hiding behind her long chestnut hair and fringe, under the knitted
striped hat that had been a Christmas present from her Mum, she
indulged in one of her favourite pastimes. Stef loved to people watch
when she caught the bus to work. The city was so very full of
mysterious people: not like the village she'd grown up in, where
everybody seemed to know everyone and the grapevine spread news in no
time. Here, she could imagine the hidden lives of the anonymous,
self-contained passengers around her, and in the cafe around the
corner from her office, she could enjoy a cappuccino and a cake while
indulging in more adventures of the imagination with her fellow
customers as her cast of characters? What had they been doing all
day? Where would they be going on to when they departed – out with
friends for the evening, or home to their families? Since she and
Charles had finally split up, she had no-one and nothing much to rush
home for, so this stop for a snack before returning to her quiet flat
was a weekly treat as well as putting off the inevitable. It was a
long time since she had felt happy in her relationship with Charles,
but his departure had left a large hole in her life and in her
self-esteem. Apart from her daydreaming, most of her entertainment
came from the library books that she read avidly, but she was
beginning to feel that too much of her life was second hand. She
needed to pick herself up and start living her own life instead of
imagining the lives of others.
This is a descriptive extension of a short character sketch. I tried to add more, but it was hard to add much because the writing didn't seem to suit more descriptors. One to return to.
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