He awakens in a darkened room.
Where have I been? He thinks.
What have I done? He thinks.
He puts his feet to the floor.
Feels the texture with his soles.
Then stands up.
Rubbing his head with his tender hand
He stumbles toward the bathroom.
And looks at himself in the mirror.
A mostly unfamiliar face stars back.
Unsure of what to think
He takes a ****.
And fumbles for the TP.
He stands up.
And glances again.
Brushes his teeth.
Shaves.
Awkwardly dressing:
He belts his belt,
Ties his tie,
Laces his laces.
Out on the street,
He tastes the air.
Waiting for the bus.
Checks his watch.
9:45 am the bus arrives.
Exactly 2 minutes late.
He boards.
Finds a spot to sit.
Takes his hat off.
His overcoat.
And settles.
Paying little attention.
"Hello" she says.
He pretends not to notice,
And sits.
"Hello?" she says again, a question this time.
"Oh!" he says, surprised. At first trying to avoid this, but realizing he cannot.
"How are you?" as if he knew who she were.
She senses his uncertainty.
"I'm great!" she says with a smile while crossing her legs towards him.
"I, uh…" he stammers, "I can tell"
"What makes you think…" she stalls. "That you can tell how I'm feeling?"
He waits, unsure of how to respond.
"You just, seemed so happy." He finally succumbs.
She smiles.
Back at her place they viciously make love.
A sub-human ****.
Afterwards, she asks him to leave.
He does.
They never meet again.
© J.R.Barclay 2009