he takes the call, there, in the chill shadow of empty market stalls, and, as she listens -
his voice is arch, charming - and shivers, he curves an arm around her.
it is an idle, an unintended, an unprecedented intimacy, and she leans, slightly
startled, into its absent-minded warmth.
"who was that, then?" she asks, as he pockets his phone.
"oh", he answers, "just someone..."
he looks, and slides, aside; their familiar distance is restored. they are, after all, just friends.
"...someone", he says, "from greece."
.. and still he lies! or did he ?
ReplyDeleteFirst, great narrative. This short story speaks volumes. In the photo, I love the echoed blue of the bike and the front panel on the truck. Beautiful image...evocative words.
ReplyDeleteAnd a bicycle. You seem to have something with bicycles?
ReplyDeleteAlso the photo is an adequate illustration to the story. In an abstract way.
ReplyDeleteI am impressed by your ability to tell a whole story in just a few words.
ReplyDeleteAs Matt said, the blue bicycle echoing the truck paint makes the photo.
I love your Life Watches too :-)
ReplyDelete