May/June 2021 • Vol. XLIII No. 3 Fiction |

Belles Lettres

The bus left early Friday morning, due to reach Judith’s town in the Hudson Valley a little after lunch. She had said in her email she would pick me up at the station. On the way up, I worried we might somehow not find each other, that I might not recognize her, or it would be awkward. But when I arrived, it was clear there’d been no need. The town was tiny, the bus station just a rutted pullout by the side of the road. Judith sat at the wheel of a car parked across the street, a beat-up, toffee-colored coupe. She reached an arm out of the window and waved when she saw me, and a thick silver bracelet she was wearing caught the light. I climbed down along with a few other passengers, and we waited as the bus released its air brakes and rumbled away. Judith had gotten out of the car. She was dressed in summer clothes, jeans and a white tank top with a high neck that exposed her small, rounded shoulder muscles. “Molly,” she said, when I got close. “I’m so glad you could m

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By Gina Chung

The bus left early Friday morning, due to reach Judith’s town in the Hudson Valley a little after lunch. She had said in her email she would pick me up […]

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