Some smut

I write some smut, a momentary distraction. I look up and wonder if the middle aged woman standing behind me at the cash register has been reading over my shoulder. She doesn’t meet my gaze, but she doesn’t look away either.

Bus

I will sit on the bus next to the guy with the cut up face, our knees now touching, despite how wide he has his legs spread. His phone rings and he gives someone instructions on how to reset some breakers having to explain the process many times, over and over again. “The box next to the sign up computer…no, don’t do anything with the box outside…no there’s three, 38, 48 and 49.”

A point of no return

She always chooses rock and I always choose paper. I explained this to her as we walked up the stairs to the Cambie bridge and then I saw you with your brown raincoat. You were walking with a red haired women and I couldn’t see your eyes behind your dark glasses. I wondered if you had seen me and I worried that you were stuck.