A sketch

A white bug just ended up between me and my keyboard. Upside down and kicking.

I loathe bugs.

I popped it in a tissue.

She swayed across the four lane blacktop from the bar to the 7-11 to buy cigarettes.

I watch this and wonder why there’s blood on my arm.  I’ve just come out and she’s the first thing I see after I straight arm the door and look up to see her despite how far away she is.  I hear her in her shoes.  Hips and nails and rhythm.  I pause to unwrap and light a smoke.  I throw the cellophane in the trash can of stone with an ashtray on top and put the fresh pack in my inside breast pocket.

Hoop earrings and a subtle but feline musky on approach.

I turn to go, thinking about her skin and her sway and her smell.

She swivels and looks right at me.  I don’t know what to do with this.

She says, “I came here for smokes but I don’t need a whole goddamn pack.”  Her head jerks a little at the end of her sentence.

I’m shy, I say something about only buying them by the shipping container.

She says, “Give me some cigarettes.”  She sticks out her lower lip.  She fucking says this and starts to goddamn pout.  She knows I stopped to check her out.

She wears some sort of straw hat with a huge yellow flower on it.  A flowery dress in contrast to her skin.

I’m wearing a coat and tie and start to dig inside my left for my new pack.  I feel like I look like William Shatner.  She smiles and leans an elbow on the ash tray/trash can between us.  She has freckles but barely. She folds her hands across her stomach and cocks her jaw just a little.  I’m leaning in her scent.

I try to smile as I clench teeth on my smoke and shake a few out of my pack.  I hold up three or four and she grins and winks and snatches them before I can blink.  The door jangles behind her as someone exits and she spins away asking me what I’m doing in front of a 7-11 on a Saturday night.

If I had an answer, I’d have to yell it.

I watch her dance back across the street to the bar.

I can’t figure out if she’s waiving me over or not.

Drinks for my friends.

5 Responses to “A sketch”

Leave a Reply for Pam Veselinovic

Recent Comments
Archives