I could see you waiting by the bus stop, No, I was not across the road or standing next to you. But I could see you from a place where there is no time or space. You could call me your ghost, or better yet, your guardian angel.
It was cold and gusty this morning, with the leaves blowing and sweeping past your feet. You were wearing your beanie, a short but fashionably formal navy coat and that burgundy scarf that screamed out contrast to those knee-high boots.
You decided not to wear any gloves but wrapped your hands on the paper cup that filled with a rich and aromatic black liquid. We all relied on this or else we will be hungry zombies, roaming the roads, searching for brains and tearing our clothes apart when we could not find any.
I wanted to be that cup, with your fingers tightly holding me. How I wanted to have your fingers intertwined between each other, but still keeping the warmth together like a mother cradling her child.
I especially envied that flimsy plastic lid. How your lips pressed onto that little hole and drained the liquid through it. You left a lipstick mark but it wasn’t obvious, because you chose the light pink, almost peachy coloured lip balm today.
You were about to wipe your lips and then the bus appeared round the corner. Everyone around you started to look panicky, just like those hungry zombies, so eager and desparate to kill and grab that juicy human brain.
You ignored them and stepped aside. You were on your way to work but you were not in a hurry. In fact, you enjoyed that little sunshine seeping through the clouds when the wind breaks them. You looked up at the branches on the trees, so bare and resembled of the bones of a long decayed human hand.
Eventually you got on the bus, picked a seat and made your way to work.
I got off the bus, crossed the road and headed into the office.