1 This is what happened: Stories at 15:52

[These were written on my phone over these past months.]

Intuition

I wasn't hallucinating. Hallucinations aren't real - a thick, tangible curtain superimposed on top of reality but improbable - and this was absolutely real. Simultaneous to the muffled rumbling of Oakland streets, I heard my voice, my familiar cadence and diction and slight twinge of irony, asking, "So, Dama, are you excited about the new Harry Potter movie?" and her voice, quieter reflected from the front seat, exclaiming "Yes! I'm so excited!"

But I didn't say anything and sat instead in silence for a minute, and we talked about our majors instead, perfunctory introductions among college students. We passed by the lakeside movie theater with its old incandescent bulbs flashing, framing "Harry Potter midnight tickets!", and from the front seat Dama exclaimed, "Yay, I'm so excited! Harry Potter!" playing out like a recording of my mind's premonition, barring my part.



Today

This morning on the bus, I saw a girl. She was blonde and had a dry-cleaned shirt in one hand and a cloth-sewn bag clutched in the other. Her hair was securely captive in a bun behind a pair of massive headphones.

She was running down the street as the bus rounded the corner. She was running with as much grace as one could, holding a bag and a dry-cleaned shirt. I wondered if the bus would stop for her. She wasn't even on the right side of the street, but I saw her panicked intention, and I hoped the bus driver did, too.

The bus stopped to let someone off, and this was probably the first time I was glad that an old lady was taking time to get off the bus. I looked toward the front of the bus, and although no one was getting on, the doors stayed open for a few seconds longer than they needed to, and then Dry-cleaning girl got on, and my heart soared.

She took the seat directly across from me, the only open seat. She was red-faced and panting. I was happy. I said nothing.