It’s that time of the week again, Friday Fictioneers kicking off on Wednesday, thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Unthinkable… asking her out like that.
Unbearable, watching a cruel mocking response forming.
Instead she’d tossed her thick honey-coloured braid and laughed as she walked away. She’d let him off lightly.
Following her back to that palatial hotel, the full measure of her unattainability struck him like a body-blow; they were worlds apart.
Today he sits behind her on the bus, inhaling her presence.
He rises for his stop, removing his hand from his pocket … light flashes on steel.
On the pavement, he registers her silent scream through the rain-spattered window.
He runs the honey-coloured braid through his fingers.
He’s let her off lightly.