August

I stood with Alexander at the familiar bus stop up the street from Latte Da. Next to him was our daughter, Angie. She was holding Alex's hand and in the other she held a little cup of hot chocolate. Her pink dress fluttered in the breeze and she rocked back and forth on her feet. I swear she always has a song playing in her head because she always moves to a beat. Or maybe Alexander needs to stop re-watching his band competitions with her. The familiar bus pulled up and we got on to find a different driver. Angie walked in between Alex and I as I made my way to the familiar seat that I watched Alex sit in all those years ago. I sat in the seat next to Alex's and helped Angie climb up onto my lap. Alex sat in his seat and pulled out his key. I watched as he carefully carved 'Ang' into the back of my seat and 'ie' into the back of his. I could still see the carvings of our names on their respective seats.

Today we took our daughter on the bus.