Fiction: November 2007 Archives

I don't know you, but I want you, all the more for that.  - The Frames, Falling Slowly

They walk awkwardly to the metro, the tension splits the air, cold breathes into them. His hands in his pockets, hers around her torso. Then his hand, warm from his pocket finds hers and they walk hand in hand. Nervously.

His accent, lilting and warm, wraps around her while they talk about nothing.

Up the stairs to the metro platform, and they wait ten minutes for the last tram. The cold causes everyone to huddle, but they stand apart, careful not to touch. Their ears ring with leftover music, his blue-grey eyes frankly open into hers.

'You enjoyed that, you think?' he asks. 'A little bit of chemistry there, maybe?'

She looks wordlessly into her bag for things that aren't there.

Ten minutes run by faster than they seem. The metro rushes in, the platform blurs with people.

He pulls her toward him for a breathless kiss. The smell of smoke from the club, the taste of beer, the warmth of his mouth on hers, the taste of his tongue. Magical.

'Go', she says, unsteadily, 'or you'll miss your train.'

The metro pulls away and she looks for him on the train but she can't see him, can't see his face in her memory, can't remember his body.

He's gone.