Saturday, March 21, 2015

What is it about married women....

...that they are drawn to me in desperation, he thought as he watched her dress, pulling a wedding ring out of the pocket of the knapsack where she had hidden it before meeting him.  Was it, he considered, the ring or the lack of mention of the ring -- until now -- that tainted the shine of the last few hours.  And, now she was scurrying out the door as if staying until the Sun came up would be what stained the experience; some bizarre internalized rule.

She hesitates at the door, waiting for...what...hug...another kiss (perhaps approving)...for the question unasked?.  I had no intention of asking for her number, or hugging, or kissing.   I waited to hear her exit onto the street downstairs to close the door she left open.