Thoughts.

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The man across from me is reading his unintersting book. He moves his finger awkwardly in and out of his mouth as if his filange is some sort of open seasame. He’s tilting his head now and impatiently tapping his watch. Perhaps he can feel my eyes burning a hole though his black and grey hair.

There is a child sitting adjacent from the both of us. She is swinging her young legs wildly out into the isles. Her bright pink rainboots sloshing up the rest of the buses pitiful blue flooring. The girl is young and stupid. Carefree I’d even say. She yawns and sticks out her tongue which is stained red from whatever artifical treat she consumed earlier.

The bus’ loud engine roars up as we chuck through the wet sorrowful streets of Ednaberry. I look out a nearby window hoping to catch some lucky lads attention. I want to wave. Put a smile on someone’s face, if only for a moment. My eyes scan the outside clatter but Noone meets them. Everyone in town is too wrapped up in their own problems to even awknowledge an encouraging face. I fold my hands and redirect my focus back into my bus car.

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About jordanrien

I'm Jordan. I am a writer, a naturalist, a feminist, a Christian, an ocean conservationist, and a lover. I live in Chicago,IL as of now. I attend art school. I'm 20 years of age. I'm also, female, don't let my name throw you off. I love music, and literally listen to all kinds. Don't keep a one track mind. I appreciate literature and chill sessions with friends. I do whatever I feel... “My 'fear'… is my substance, and probably the best part of me.”- Franz Kafka

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