At the Tottenham Court Road bus stop just near Primark
a man in a faded blue shirt two sizes too big finished kissing a woman,
stood back and told her that he loved her. They let their bus drive on without them.
He said it and all she could do was stare. And he stared back and then
her mouth turned into a smile. We’d discreetly started to
make a crowd around them growing less and less interested in buses
readjusting bags so we were comfortable enough to experience this moment
we just watched them stand there. She stared at him like
he was her mother’s home-made cooking. The one her mother
used to make when she was seven to tell her everything
was going to be okay. He stared at her like she was the first sunset he saw
at Bournemouth beach, the night his Dad told him he planned to
marry his Mother.
I’d say they were double my age. He showed it more than her. Wore clothes
that used to fit him years ago. Wearing them as a memento to the man he
used to be. His backpack hung from his left shoulder, its weight forcing him
to lean a little. She had no backpack anchoring her down but leaned with him
so she could mimic his look back. She wore jeans for comfort rather than fashion
went practical with her bag. She saved her style for her face. Decorating it with
golden earrings that demanded to be looked at, at least commented upon by
random bystanders. I think I was the only one that noticed them. Everyone else
seemed too busy trying to save this as a memory. Freeing up space in their brains
getting rid of last Tuesday’s finance meeting, removing the day
the electricity ran out. Erasing memories of Terminator Genysis. We were all
desperate to relive this. Ignored buses as 29 and 134 and 24 and 176 drove by
our days were less important than these two people.
I’ve never been more jealous of a man before. Wished I could wear his aging skin.
His brown hair that was starting to grey. I wished I could be his 5ft9 size. Be as
stocky as him and have those eyes infront of me. I’ve never been more jealous of a look
and the amount of ease it was for her to do it. I don’t know how,
but Tottenham Court Road was silent. All of us wishing that maybe we could have
a moment like this for ourselves. For us, this was special. For them,
this was just a Tuesday.