Missing Your Love

Late summer in this city is sticky and stagnant, and the wind brings the smell of sun-scorched leaves. Under the tall sycamore tree, Su Xuancai hurriedly ran towards the big yellow bus. The bus closed the door and sped away in the dust. She walked inside and found a seat by the window in the back row and sat down. She was in a hurry to go out in the morning, so she took a piece of bread from the table but forgot to bring water. She was a little thirsty after running all the way. Looking forward from where she was sitting, some people were playing with their phones with their heads down, some were talking in low voices, and some were resting on their seats. The road was rarely smooth on Saturday morning. Su Xuancai stuffed the bread back into her bag and leaned against the window with her head down. Elevated...