How We Fit

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The sound of a car alarm cuts the air; smells like August. His bright blue eyes monitor my every move and make me uncomfortable. He looks pale, in need of the outdoors. He removes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his neck. He steps inside.

I enter and push my back against the glass. No one speaks. For a moment, it’s quiet. Then the breathing continues. 

“Floor nine, please.” 

The city feeds on heat like locusts sing; a song like summer, pitch high, never breaks. An electrical buzz, a dim green glow, rises, sticks to weary squares.

Little eyes wait, sigh at the lights, glance at wrists too full with purpose. Work-out, lunch, weekend routine, bustling figures traverse below.

The doors open.

The man raises his hand and stretches his smile. His voice drifts out from behind stained teeth. “Stay cool,” he says. 

“Same to you.”

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Trying to get my pen flowing… thank you for reading!

copyright © Kelly Huntson and findingwhatssweet.com 2015-2018. All rights reserved.

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