THE ACQUAINTANCE
ALM No.91, July 2026
SHORT STORIES
I made my way to the back of the bus and put my backpack under my seat. All I could think about was what would happen when I made it to my destination, then I saw her. I did not know her name or who she was but only that she was a short, cute girl and had long brown hair and was slim in stature. She sat down next to me and gave me a smile that could warm your heart. She had to have been in her early twenties and was like a young puppy during a road trip as she started to look all around at the people who got on. I asked the girl if she was headed to the mountains on a vacation. She smiled and nodded. As the bus began to move, she took out a sketchbook and started to draw.
I looked at a couple of her sketches while she flipped through it. It looked like she preferred landscapes and nature subjects with lots of color. In college, most of the art students I knew who sketched normally never added color to their creations but she sketched with color in mind. She opened her sketchbook to a page of a partially drawn oak tree that was just needing some leaves. While she was pulling out a pencil, I told her that she was a very talented artist. She looked up and stopped her search and handed me her journal to look through.
The first few pages of her journal had very basic shapes and some roughly drawn three-dimension shapes. The next few pages showed faces and everyday objects like chairs, cups, bowls, and a few buildings. All of the pages up to this point were all pencil sketches and had no color. The next pages suddenly were full of color and the subjects changed to nature scenes. She had pictures of birds, deer, cows, horses, mountain views, trees, and open fields. With every page the quality of the sketches got sharper and clearer. Soon all her drawings were no longer flat, but they could almost walk off the page.
It was at this point I looked up and noticed that the girl was staring at me with anticipation wanting to know what I thought. I told her that I was very impressed and that she had a real gift. After I said that she took the journal and flipped to a particular page and handed it back to me. The sketch was of a small blue bird with a nest of eggs. The sketch looked as if it took months to complete and the detail was so exquisite that you could almost pick the bird up with your hands. I asked if that was her favorite and she quickly nodded her head. I replied and said that it was mine too. I gave her the journal back and she got back to drawing.
I turned my head and watched the countryside roll past the window. I thought about how I was at her age. How I was so ignorant and naive and claimed to have my whole life mapped out. I thought of the friends I made and lost up to this point. The money I made and squandered for a life I could not wait to live. The opportunities that were handed to me so quickly and burned just as fast. I thought of my father and the phone call I had with him yesterday and how I had to break the news that I lost everything. How his golden boy who had everything right could not even afford a roof over his head, the gas in his car, or the bus ticket to come home. My father after hearing all this just paused on the other end of the phone and said that we would talk about it when I got home.
Suddenly I felt a slight tug on my sleeve.
I turned my head and the girl was there with journal in hand wanting to show me her latest creation. She opened it and showed me a picture of a pasture scene with a mother deer and a little baby doe under its legs. The sketch still needed color but the scene made me feel a little better. It reminded me of Mom and how she used to pick me up from the bus stop after school. I wish she was still here.
Even though I had nothing to give, at least I could make this girl’s day. I told her that I really like it and especially liked the mother deer. Instead of a nod or a smile the girl wrapped her left arm around my right arm and gave me the sincerest hug.
A couple hours passed and night was beginning to set in. I started to doze off from the vibration of the bus when I noticed that the girl was sleeping with her head on my arm. I tried my best to keep still and make sure not to disturb her. While she laid there, I remembered the first girl I went out with and how madly in love we were. I remembered how we would talk for hours on the phone and how we would say that we would always be loyal to one another. I remembered our first date and first kiss. The smell of her perfume and her bright smile.
The girl moved a little to adjust her head and went back to sleep.
I remembered the sting I felt when we broke up. I remember the torture I put myself through to make everything right to keep the relationship going but to no effect. The dreams I had for us just to be awoken and revealed that it was for nothing. Those were memories that I left in the dust years ago, but this girl brought them out. I tried to keep my composure while also trying not to disturb the girl from her dreaming.
Soon morning turned into mid-day and our bus had made it to its destination. The girl started packing up her stuff, and I knew that I probably would not see her again. I decided to give her one last compliment before she disappeared into the crowd of faces. I leaned over and told her that I thought she was a beautiful woman and that I wished her the very best in life and that maybe one day I would see her again. She turned to look at me and opened her journal and tore out the picture of the deer and doe she made this trip and handed it to me. I looked at the picture and saw that it was all completed and fully colored. It was beautiful.
I told her she did not have to do that, but I could see it in her eyes that if I refused it would only break the poor girl’s heart. I took the drawing and when we began to disembark from the bus, I gave her a full hug and followed her to the exit.
In that one moment it felt like all my problems were gone. I felt that even if I could never experience true happiness for as long as I live, at least I had this one moment of true peace and love. In that moment my soul was content, my heart full, and my mind at ease. It was after this moment of joy that I took my first step off the bus that my alarm clock rang, and I woke up realizing that this too was all just a dream.
Logan Lee is a writer based in Pensacola, FL. A first-generation college graduate who specializes in short stories that reflect his personal life and upbringing. Often described as an old soul, Logan brings a reflective and timeless perspective to modern experiences, exploring how memory and emotion shape everyday life. He is currently developing additional works for publication, marking this as an early breakout moment in his writing journey.
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