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He sat down in an open seat on the bus, stumbling as it lurched forward. As the scenery started to pass he stared out the window.

'Goodbye, little town. Goodbye, everybody and everything I remember knowing. I am off to find myself.' He nestled back into his seat and pulled out a folded up picture. He unfolded it carefuly as he examined it's every detail.

The picture was of a house on a beach, nestled against the soft greens and browns of a coastal forest. As his eyes were upon the picture, his mind took him there. The sights, sounds, and smells of the Greyhound bus he sat in slowed and faded away, gradually replaced with a blank white. That white too was replaced; with the sights, sounds, and smells of this beachfront house.

His view shifted from the beach, moving slowly as if it were his own eyes of his own body walking toward the house. He paused to look out over the sea, and as the sun had jus started to set a few gulls could still be seen drifting on th evening breezes. He could feel the muscles in his face letting him know he smiled at this sight, and continued.

A few steps farther a pause in the sound of the waves brought the noises of children playing to his ear. Somewhere in the back of the mind living this fantasy was the knowledge they were his, and scanning the treeline he found them, swinging innocently from an old tire hung on a particularly stout branch. He kept smiling, and started forward again.

The sound of rocks crunching beneath his sandals made him look down just as a small furry something shot up from between a gap in the rocks and tore off for the forest, carrying something in his mouth. 'Looks like he caught dinner.' Still smiling, he moved on.

Nothing else interrupted him as he crunched up the rocky beach, stomped up the stairs etched into the stone, and tromped across the grass toward the patio. A figure of beauty waved from the seat next to his as he approached, and her angelic voice promised of fresh tea. His smile grew wider and he broke into a jog across the short distance.

He eased into his seat slowly and looked to his wife as she handed him a cup. He thanked her and smiled, his eyes closed as he went to take a sip. As soon as the tea touched his lips he lurched forward as if someone had tackled his chair from behind. Hitting his knees on the seat in front of him reminded him where he was, breaking his reverie. He looked out the window to see the bus had moved maybe ten feet and someone was running up alongside.

After a moment she got on, and he was looking out the window again, trying to recover the fantasy. Trying to forget everything he was leaving behind. A voice broke this second reverie.

"Is this seat taken?" She asked, looking down at him.

"Nope." He said politely, turning to face her as she sat down on his left. When she turned to face him, similing in introduction, he was stricken with a flash of recognition. The fantasy replayed itself all the way to the end in fast forward, and the two images meshed.

It was her.

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Inspiration: Random google search of 'Beach house' resulting in this.