stop requested

We were riding the 26 north from downtown after a show. First we were talking about the show, then about music in general--and not about her early morning flight. We talked about the joy of listening to new albums and hearing new material live. Meanwhile the streets kept going past. We talked about the first bands we really got into. She talked about how she started listening to music differently when she was 16 or 17. I wondered why that was, and she started to explain but--

"Oh shit, this is my stop." She pulled the chain to request a stop. We awkwardly embraced as the bus pulled up to the stop, and she waved hurriedly and said farewell. I waved through the window at her retreating form.

No tearful farewells or misty-eyed promises. Just talking about music, hurrying off without fanfare, just like it was any other night. Just like a farewell should be, really. It was beautiful.