Tag Archives: encounters

Glass

I hadn’t written in a while so I asked for a muse and got ‘glass’. Glass it is.

He lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink. Soft ambience music and quiet voices of other customers around him threatened to mingle with his thoughts.

Alone in a foreign city, he was a traveller between worlds, a dreamer lost in his conquests.

“Your glass looks lonely.”

He looked up as a female voice said quietly. It was matter-of-fact yet bore a hint of conspiracy, almost a whisper in his ear.

He hadn’t noticed her before, but there she was, gazing at him with a smile, sitting a few stools away, her drink held between her fingers with casual poise.

“Well then, it would be a pleasure if your glass could keep it company.”

“Don’t mind if it does.”

She walked over, placing her glass carefully beside his.

“It seems to be almost empty.”

“Yeah, it’s been here for a while. Hadn’t done much except to give me a taste of the city thus far.”

“And do you like what you have tasted?”

She looked at him as she tilted the contents in her glass between the parting of her lips.

“Mostly.”

“But there is more to the city than what your glass has to offer.”

“I’m sure there is.”

“Maybe I can show you… around.”

“That would be most delightful. And I’m sure my glass no longer needs my company now that it has yours for that.”

She laughed a little, a wink of amusement in her eyes, then both of them stepped out of the bar into the night, while his glass and hers remained, out of sight.

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Two-Finger Salute

Maybe I might see him again. 😉

Stepping off the bus, she stood at the bus-stop for a moment, one arm clutching her Macbook to her bosom while she held her wallet, the other hand unzipping it busily to slot in her transport card.

Zipping her wallet back up, she proceeded to unzip her haversack. Stuffing the wallet in, she pulled the zipper back up then looked up, heaving a sigh of accomplishment.

At that moment, she saw him.

He was staring at her from the window of the bus she had alighted, which was for some reason still at the bus stop, brows slightly furrowed as though considering something about her.

She stopped and he saw her looking at him.

He gave her a boyish smile, and she smiled back. Then as the bus lurched off, he broke into a warm, acknowledging grin and tipped his fingers in a two-finger salute as she held his gaze, then watched as the vehicle went along on his way before she went on hers, still a smile on her face.

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Train Ride

He checked her out.

Letting his eyes run down the contours of her body slowly and back up.

She knew.

Forced into his full view by the crowd, she had noticed him the minute he glanced up.

The crowd alighted.

A space appeared right between them, stark naked.

New crowd entered.

That space was almost immediately taken, somewhat a relief.

He turned on his tablet and she took in the scene of clinical oblivion, glued commuters and their beloved screens.

As the train pulled in, their eyes met. She gave him a slight smile. He returned it.

Then he rose.

Pushing through, he came towards her.

As he passed, the air between them was all over each other, tangled and desirous, raw and sexual.

He thrusted, harder and urgent; she clawed with the whites of her eyes, gasping, rhythmic.

Then he was gone.

The train picked up speed.

She smiled to herself.

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Filed under emotions, feelings, style, travel, writing