The last glance of Leah Bolt.
Red hair. Full and dripping down her back.
Green eyes. Alert, bright and awaiting the arrival.
Black mascara spider webs outlined with bridges of eye liner.
Blue skinny jeans and a purple sweatshirt. A silver zipper.
White ear-buds blasting music.
A neon green notebook hidden under arms. Pressed tightly against her chest as if it might fly away.
A black rain coat - lightly tossed on and unzipped.
A pair of blue converse tapping on the sidewalk. Covered in words of Sharpie; beautiful, believe, love, life and all the adjectives with remarkable meaning.
Then she disappears onto a bright yellow bus.
The veil of a window shadowing her features.
Longing eyes trace the sidewalk. Hers and mine.
I am once again alone.
The last glance of Leah Bolt.