W. We Were On The Bus

—w—

We were on the bus. You got a nosebleed and it scared me.

I thought you were going to die.

We had to pull over and it took the bus driver 4 minutes before you were okay.

I went home and wrote a story about you, where you got shot in a parking lot and I saved you.

You moved away the next year. I think you own your own company now.

I’m glad you never got shot.

If you ever need saved, I’ve got your back.

—-w

This post is part of the flash fiction series, By the Letter.

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