"I’ll give you my seat, fair lady," he said.
Maybe he thought she had been looking for a seat.
"Thank you, but I’ve got a seat at the back." She walked back to the seat where she had left her bag, but found all the seats occupied and could not recognise which one air blade moi nhat she had been sitting in. The bag too, was nowhere to be seen.
"What have you lost?" asked the kind-hearted passenger that wanted to give her his seat.
"A bag, sir."
"What’s in it?"
"Just a wig and a brush, sir."
"OK, we’ll look for it together."
"That’s very kind of you! Thank you very much. Anyway, I don’t really need them any longer," she smiled in thanks.
The bus stopped abruptly and the passengers were flung forward. In that fleeting moment, she thought she saw a woman pass by the bus with hair similar to the wig. She ran to the gia xe air blade thái window to get a better look, but the bus had already turned into another street.
Along the pavement, people were hurrying home. Perhaps, they wanted to avoid the imminent cold end-of-winter wind.
A cold draught between two buildings pierced her thin jacket and made her tremble a little. “It’ll take me at least an hour to get through the traffic to pick up my daughter from school,” she said to herself.
Little Chi also wore a yellow xe honda air blade jacket like her mother. They both usually put on clothes with the same colour during the day: one large blouse matching a small one like the two copies in a pictorial magazine. Chi climbed up on the saddle of her Mum’s motorbike and started to deal with the oft-told subject that Quyên had already heard before.
“What time will Father Christmas come to us, Mum?” asked the little kid.
“As usual, at your bedtime, my beloved daughter.”
“Last night, I wrote my wishes and put them into my pair of stockings. Yet, this morning they were nowhere to be found. Surely, he’s already collected them, Mum.”
“You’re right. He often appears during the night and takes them all away.”