Monday, May 12, 2008


It’s dusk when a girl walks to the bus stop.
Girl, you are beautiful, says a man holding out his hand.
She hadn’t really heard him, just registered his hand.
She laughs with wary eyes. He hasn’t registered either.
What’s yo name, girl?
Before she can make it up, she answers with confidence:
Damn! I could cherish you.
She’s forced to take off her headphones. We’re doing this
I feel like I’ve heard this before, she says as
Condescendingly as she can muster. She pulls her hand
The wrong man has told you that.
She laughs again. She’s tired. Flattered.
My name is Mario. Where you from?
Let me get cho number.
I don’t think so.
I wanna talk to you.
No go, Mario.
I’ll give you my number.
That’s okay.
Her eyes are fastened on an approaching bus.
That’s my ride. Have a good night.
You sure I can’t get your number?

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