“Would you say you truly love someone?” I asked the elderly man sitting next to me in the jostling bus full of people.
“Yes, I love my daughter. You know you kind of look like her.” he replied his voice slow and light.
“When I say truly love I mean someone you want to spend your life with.” I told him my attention drifting to the scenery outdside the small glass window.
“Well yes, my once wife, but you know sometimes love doseant always work out.” he told me with a genial warm face.
“I no. I’ve never seen any of my mothers past relationships work.” I said gripping the hem of my black dress.
“Love is funny thing, but Im sure one day your mother will find someone she will turly love.” the elderly man replied. The bus jolted forward.
“Stop 15” the bus driver said rather grumpy cutting my answer short.
“Im sorry but this is my stop.” I told the man getting out of my seat.
“Its a cemetary.” he said his face curious.
“I no, Im going to my mothers funeral.” I replied, the hot tears streaming down my face.