The Spotless Moon
The Spotless Moon Looking at her face beside the bus window for a few moments while her bus overtakes mine in ever the same evening traffic exaggerating into eternity as I sat by the window seat in the last row of my bus, became an uncanny habit for someone like me, who sleeps like a child as soon as I took my place in the bus. Yet, for the past few weeks, my heart yearned like a child, just to get a glimpse at her selenic beauty of a face in the golden hour of dusk. Despite all the exhaustion and tire that paints people dull by the sunset, hers is the only face that reflects calmness contrasting all the chaos of the evening traffic. My morning bus rides didn't expect to get to see her. I didn't miss her in the evenings I couldn't see her. My legs knew her classroom, yet they resent going anywhere near it and any occasional pass-by at the college, My eyes never intended to stop by and take a look. When there were opportunities to walk up to her and talk, my mouth shut itsel...