Time Keeps Us
The begining
I looked over at the offer. Saw the glass sitting full and waiting. It didn’t want me to drink it. I said I would pass for now, and started walking towards the door. On my way out I could see Bill already rummaging through the trash. Trying to dig out Beckie’s number. He’d probably call her pretending to be me, just show up, and then see what happens. He deserved a good time. Some guys just do.
After the door I took the stairs like a dead man. I hit the sidewalk like I was drunk. The night sky smelled stale and there were memories all around me.
----------------
She walked down the street like she owned it.
She was too young to have her jeans slit across both cheeks.
Old enough to not use underwear.
It was the tight little perfect body. I could have been a pedophile that day.
I just watched her walk down and turn the corner. She flicked her cigarette across the can and towards the open window of a passing crown vic.
It was her street. And she owned it.
I knew she’d be back. I took a drag off my smoke, walked over, picked up the sheet of crumpled, folded paper, and leaned up against the light post.
A few minutes later she rounded the building a full stride scouring the ground.
Once close enough I said, “looking for this?”
Her eyes snapped up and met mine dead on. I saw it all.
They narrowed and the corners of her mouth turned up coy.
“Hi, I’m Julia,” she breathed.
----------------
I picked myself out and walked down towards the square. There was no telling when.
The trees were all leaning slightly to the left. Listening.
I looked over at the offer. Saw the glass sitting full and waiting. It didn’t want me to drink it. I said I would pass for now, and started walking towards the door. On my way out I could see Bill already rummaging through the trash. Trying to dig out Beckie’s number. He’d probably call her pretending to be me, just show up, and then see what happens. He deserved a good time. Some guys just do.
After the door I took the stairs like a dead man. I hit the sidewalk like I was drunk. The night sky smelled stale and there were memories all around me.
----------------
She walked down the street like she owned it.
She was too young to have her jeans slit across both cheeks.
Old enough to not use underwear.
It was the tight little perfect body. I could have been a pedophile that day.
I just watched her walk down and turn the corner. She flicked her cigarette across the can and towards the open window of a passing crown vic.
It was her street. And she owned it.
I knew she’d be back. I took a drag off my smoke, walked over, picked up the sheet of crumpled, folded paper, and leaned up against the light post.
A few minutes later she rounded the building a full stride scouring the ground.
Once close enough I said, “looking for this?”
Her eyes snapped up and met mine dead on. I saw it all.
They narrowed and the corners of her mouth turned up coy.
“Hi, I’m Julia,” she breathed.
----------------
I picked myself out and walked down towards the square. There was no telling when.
The trees were all leaning slightly to the left. Listening.
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