for "mini_nanowrimo" hence no friends lock 5
Rory took his headphones out the backpack between his legs and pulled them on his head. He lugged his backpack up on the empty seat beside him, adjusting the arm rest so it wouldn't fall into the aisle. The bus was nearly empty as it pulled out of the station and headed out into the foggy city streets. He turned his music up and then back down. He rested his head against the window, eyes shut and opened them again, sitting up straight.
It seemed too easy. Everything he had to do was done and no one had said a word. He hadn't actually talked to anyone, of course. He left a message on his parent's answering machine. He left a letter for Holly in the mail box. He had even scribbled a note for his school. It simply said "I'm dropping out. Rory Nefield." He didn't care if they thought it was a joke or if he got in trouble. He didn't care that he had lost Holly or if he made his parents furious. He emptied his bank account and bought a string of bus tickets that would take him east. He said he didn't care where too, as long as he got to see the ocean. He wanted to go whale watching, take a boat tour of the coast and maybe go fishing again. He hadn't been fishing since he was eight years old with his dad and one of his friends.
Rory looked through the grimy bus window into the still dark sky. It was early and he was going to watch the sun rise. He hadn't slept since the night before and the world seemed disjointed and strange. The seats rattled alarmingly as they went over bumps in the street and a woman, a few seats in front of him, was talking to the young girl beside her. Another boy, about Rory's age, got up from his seat and went into the small washroom. A brown haired girl, sitting alone near the front on the bus, headphones on, was scribbling quickly into a small journal. She sat in an aisle seat and Rory would only see the back of her head and her left arm, propping the book upright. If she had red hair and wasn't wearing glasses she would be a splitting image of Holly. She was even wearing a denim jacket with a white scarf hanging open. Rory watched her until the boy came back from the washroom and blocked his view.
He looked at his watch and shook his head ruefully when he realised only minutes had passed since the bus started its journey. He still had a long way to go. He opened up his bag, reached in and pulled out a bottle of water. He read the label in English and then French before he fell asleep with his forehead pressed to the window pane, music lulling him. He did not wake up in time to see the sun rise.
500 words today. yesterday i wrote more but hated what i wrote. today was less but i like it. i think i just like the bus.
and i like writing myself into my novel. spot me!
oh! the prompt image today is a picture i submitted of lincoln! i was so happy to see my kitty. [it's the second picture of mine that they've used.]