… and I lifted my head

It was a Saturday evening and I found myself in a trotro headed home. The bus felt small and as if that was not enough a woman came in with her two children. She seemed angry already because she had to squeeze her children and luggage to get to the back seat. She succeeded in getting her children a seat so that there were four people with their butts on the three-seater chair. We all were uncomfortable because of the woman. I could not move around. That was stroke one. She was fidgeting and moving her bag around so her elbows were constantly coming into contact with parts of my body. That was stroke two. She seemed very agitated so I wondered why she was doing things to work me up too. That was stroke three.

I lifted my head and saw that the person in front of me was going through the same predicament. Oh! Poor us, I thought. The bus started moving and I looked out of the window. The conductor started taking his money and I looked for my purse and lifted my head to give him the money. It was then that I saw that the person in front of me had shiny curly hair. I thought it interesting and I felt like doing a little mischief by asking the owner if it was artificial or natural.

I didn’t and after taking my change went back to staring out of the window. I was also thinking about a drama I was watching and how I loved the plot. The love story was so fairytale-like and I thought about the stories of married people around me and somehow concluded that fairytale-like love stories will never happen to me or happen to people around me.

A couple of people got down from the vehicle and the bus waited at the stop for a long time. I lifted my head to find the cause of the delay.  It was then again that I noticed that the back of the head of the guy in front of me was really nice. He was also looking out of the window and I could see the stylish glasses that he was wearing. The side of his face was also nice and somehow I found myself thinking about the kind of person he would be. I found myself staring at the back of his head several times trying to see if I could get a full facial view until the bus neared my stop.

I had lost my voice and trying to call out to the conductor to make a stop at the next bus stop above the music in the car was proving futile. The guy in front of me called out to the conductor several times and finally mentioned the name of the stop. When we got to the stop, the guy again alerted the conductor because he did not signal the driver to stop. He was so passionate in the calls that I thought he was also getting down at the bus stop. Finally, the bus stopped and my sitting partner had to move herself or children so that I could get off the bus. The guy gestured to the children to come and sit with him. Hmmm, so he was not getting off. As I walked past him, I thought it was a charming thing that he did for me in fighting for me to get home without stress and for the woman’s children. I looked at him to thank him and that was when I saw his face. What a handsome man! As I walked home, I could not help smiling because I felt that a fairytale-like thing had just happened to me.

We lived happily ever after; he in some part of Ghana I do not know and I wondering how I saw things differently anytime that I looked up and believing that fairytale-like stories happen everywhere. It is all about how we package experiences for other people to feel.

 

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