10. My Note.

At 5:08.

I'm at the stop.

I walk up to the notes and there is nothing new. I linger at the stop for awhile and fidget with the piece of paper in my hand. I look to see if anyone is watching me. No one is around. I look down at my note, then look up at L's notes, then back down at mine. I stare blankly at L's note for quite some time and when I snap back, I notice there are people at the bus stop. I don't even know how long I was staring. The note in my hand is crumbled, I smooth it out and put the note in my pocket. I look down the street and start walking; and then I keep walking and walking, away. I pass a green metal trash can that looks like a iron railing that was bent into a circular receptacle. I casually toss the note in with the rest of the garbage, the discarded, the forgotten, the ignored; the best place to get rid of something you don't want to face.