Through the bus window, I see
a girl, hair wet, drying
in front of a fan, her thoughts
scattered like leaves on a windy day
she wears a school uniform

Her eyes are distant, reflecting
promises made and broken
in the quiet hum of blades
as if the world outside
is just a passing scene

The fan spins, a silent witness
to her silent acceptance
knowing that not all promises
are meant to be kept
as she lets her hair dry