(150 words) July 23 - Split Second The train station was full of morning commuters. Conductors shouting all aboards for their train competed with newspaper stand headlines and the angry woman calling out names from the espresso shop. He always waited to be one of the last off the northbound so he wouldnt have to spend too much time in the zombified que into the station. Grabbing a morning paper, he stood at the stoplight. Across the intersection stood a man in his fourties. He wore a slight red beard, wire rim glasses, and an old-school tweed jacket with the leather patches at the elbows. He looked up from his phone and they caught each others glance. The gentle happy smile thatt erupted across red beards face was infectious. The swoon happening between them was palpable. It was that split second where a hundred questions fired at the same time: What he be like to kiss? To wake-up to? Did he like dancing to old jazz? Did he love coffee in bed with the New York Times on everlasting Sunda y mornings? Pushing impatiently past him, not so gently pushing him aside, a woman grunted, The light is green. Asshole.
Posted on: Wed, 23 Jul 2014 14:27:21 +0000
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