Submitted by megan on Sun, 05/10/2009 - 22:13
I'm here earlier than she expected and the place is a mess. Clothes dropped here and there, messy piles of skirts, stockings, shine. I pick up her bra, hold it to my face, the side of it where her sweat would have soaked in. Images of her in action: her round ass as she bends over to pick up the paper she dropped at work, her blunt fingertips gently pressing the yellow skin of a mango at the fruit stall, her purse tucked under her elbow, phone cocked between ear and raised shoulder. Her heels clicking on the pavement, fast towards home.