Chapter 5 — An Awkward Conversation
617 Words
The next day I told myself I wouldn’t look for him.
It had already happened twice, which was strange enough. Cities are big places. People pass each other every day without noticing. Seeing the same stranger three times in a row would be pushing coincidence too far.
So I promised myself something simple.
Go to work. Finish the day. Go home.
No searching the street.
No scanning the bus stop.
Just normal life.
Of course promises like that rarely survive contact with curiosity.
By the time evening arrived, I was already wondering whether he would be there again.
The sky had turned a pale gray, the kind that threatened rain but never quite delivered it. The wind carried that cool evening chill that made people walk a little faster than usual.
When I turned the corner toward the bus stop…
My eyes went there immediately.
Empty.
No tall stranger standing near the streetlight.
No quiet man watching traffic.
Just the crooked shelter and the leaning bus sign.
For some reason I felt a small wave of disappointment.
Which was ridiculous.
I didn’t know him.
We had barely spoken.
Still…
I stepped under the shelter and waited.
A minute passed.
Then another.
The wind shifted slightly.
And then a voice behind me said,
“You looked disappointed.”
I turned so quickly I almost slipped.
There he was again.
Standing a few steps away like he had quietly appeared out of thin air.
My surprise must have been obvious.
“You do that a lot,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Appear behind people.”
A small smile crossed his face.
“I was here first.”
I glanced around.
“You weren’t here when I arrived.”
“Maybe you didn’t notice.”
That was entirely possible.
I studied him for a second.
“You do realize this is getting strange.”
“How so?”
“This is the third time we’ve met.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“And you still haven’t told me your name.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“You didn’t tell me yours either.”
“That’s because the bus door slammed in my face.”
“That seems unfair.”
I let out a quiet breath.
“Fine.”
I held out my hand slightly.
“My name is—”
I stopped.
He was looking at my hand like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
“You shake hands, right?” I asked.
“I usually do.”
“Then why are you staring at mine like it’s complicated?”
He laughed quietly.
Not loudly.
Just enough to show he actually had a sense of humor.
Then he reached out and shook my hand.
His grip was warm and steady.
“I’m Daniel,” he said.
The name settled easily in the moment.
Simple.
Normal.
Daniel.
“Well, Daniel,” I said.
“Now we’re no longer strangers.”
He looked at me thoughtfully.
“Are we sure about that?”
I frowned slightly.
“You know my name now.”
“That’s not the same as knowing someone.”
He had a point.
But I wasn’t going to admit that.
“Well,” I said.
“It’s a start.”
For the first time since we met, Daniel looked slightly more relaxed.
And as we stood there talking under the dim evening sky, something about the moment felt oddly comfortable.
Like the awkwardness between two strangers had started to fade.
Like we had just taken the first real step into something new.
Neither of us said it out loud.
But both of us seemed to feel it.
The beginning of something.
- Writer
