The Girl in the Purple Coat

Curse you, bus driver who has been turning up early this past week. I’m growing to like the girl who has been waiting at the same stop for a fortnight now; the one wrapped up warm in her big, soft purple coat, and with the long, brown hair and pale skin, and sometimes a book to read.

Curse you, bus driver and your uncharacteristic promptness of late. Today it was raining cats and dogs as I left work and, approaching the bus stop, she was there; shoulders hunched against the rain. We exchanged glances as I got there - the ‘tsk, this weather, eh?’ look - and a small connection was made! But no sooner this done than the ruddy bus charges up, at least a minute early I’d say.
“Hey!” she said, as she hailed down the bus. “Early again?” I muttered. “Is it ever on time?”.

This is the most we’ve spoken - okay, the only things we’ve spoken - to each other. And it was ended there and then as we had to board the bus and, of course, sit in different seats.

She wears a thick purple coat, which reaches down to her shins and done all the way up, topped with a sky-blue scarf. She carries a yellow patterned shoulder bag. She stands with her feet together as she waits.
She looks as if she used to decorate her school books with little stars and moons and Cure lyrics written in curly, swirly lettering in silver pen. A yen for the ‘mystical’ side of goth, which she hasn’t quite abandoned yet. Just diluted, maybe.

What was that book she was reading? I clocked both the title and author once, but I’ve forgotten them now. Never heard of either, anyway. It looked like a tragi-romantic tale of a heroine in exotic times/climes; a sweeping epic told in purple prose. Looked like.

Now what? Damn. Should I talk to her? Yeah, right. Talking is easier said than done, you know! I’ve never been one for whom charming chit-chat in the cold light of day - or the cold light of anytime, come to that - has come easy. I’ve never known what to say to attractive girls in such situations. Come to think of it, I’ve never known what to say to anyone I have ever met in any situation, ever. I mean, what do you say to people? I have absolutely no idea.

Curse you, bus driver, if you don’t start turning up ten minutes late like you used to, I’ll never get the chance to say a word to her, whilst idling at the bus stop together. In the rain.

Let's see how it goes.