There is a man I have seen every day on the bus for the last 4 years. I sit across from him, by the window, everyday. I have long since memorised the patterns on his ties, the exact brown of his eyes. I know how many freckles he has on his left ear and that he cuts his hair every 4 months. I know he takes his coffee black and that he has a Nokia mobile. I know (Through unintended eavesdropping) that he has 3 children and an ex wife. I know he laughs like a carefree child and he smiles at me as I board the bus and sit in the exact same spot, every day, opposite him.
But I don’t know his name.
He has long since known, by my uniform, what school I attend. He knows I listen to music every day and that I own a Samsung mobile. And, if asked, he could recall the hazel of my eyes. He knows my brother boards the same bus each day and that I smile at him as he sits in the exact same spot, everyday, opposite me.
Why have I never asked his name?
But I don’t know his name.
He has long since known, by my uniform, what school I attend. He knows I listen to music every day and that I own a Samsung mobile. And, if asked, he could recall the hazel of my eyes. He knows my brother boards the same bus each day and that I smile at him as he sits in the exact same spot, everyday, opposite me.
Why have I never asked his name?
No comments:
Post a Comment