Posted on August 20, 2015August 20, 2015 by Patricia Ann McNair8.20.2015 Journal Prompt Image from Breathless August 20, 2015: We pretended not to notice. Like this:Like Loading... Related
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Sedge says as how I should just ask her. He says I should grow a pair and not be a boy no more. And I should just ask her. What’s the worst can happen, he says. And he looks at me with his shoulders hunched and his hands held out empty to show he don’t got an answer to his own question or to show that nothing is what would happen if I asked and she said no.
He’s talking ‘bout Marie and she works in a office upstairs and she’s a secretary or something and her hands is as clean as soap bubbles. Sedge says if I don’t then maybe he will. He laughs when he says that cos he knows Marie aint exactly his type. Sedge likes his girls with a little more to ‘em, see – more curves that is and more sass. Marie is all the shape of a boy and her hair cut like a boy’s too and she’s quiet and keeps to herself. Sedge allows that she’s pretty but he thinks she could do a lot more with what she’s got.
Marie eats alone in The Bucklin Café, which I found out by chance when I was passing one time. Now I eat my lunch there, too, though it’s shit expensive. I sit just where I can see Marie all lit up silver and reflected in the wall mirror. She orders a white-bread cheese and tomato sandwich cut into neat triangles, and a pot of breakfast tea for one. Marie takes milk and two sugars in her tea and she hold the cup with her little finger crooked and she reads the paper. Like that she don’t invite no one to sit down with her.
Sedge says I should just sit with her anyway. It’s a free country, he says. Just sit down at the same table and tell her your name and say as how she’s pretty as a picture. I can see Sedge doing that, even if Marie is not his type. He’s got balls, Sedge has, and he talks easy to any girl in the print shop where we work and the girls all soft and playing with the ends of their hair when he smiles at ‘em. And I can see Sedge sitting down at Marie’s table in the The Bucklin Café and he’d talk to her like she was his sister or his aunt and she’d smile and touch her neck and set aside her paper for that day.
I listen to Sedge and I sometimes wish I was him. He teaches me things I could say to Marie and he makes me say ‘em back to him. Saying ‘em with Sedge it’s easy. And he pretends like he’s Marie and he laughs and he answers in a high girly voice and he suddenly grabs my cock through my pants and he says again to grow a pair and he says again what’s the worst can happen?
I listen to Sedge and I sometimes want to be him, but he don’t get it, not really. Cos the worst that could happen is Marie could say no or say nothing and pretend like I’m not even there. And that would be the beginning and end of everything. And after, when I’m not so busy in the print shop, all I’d be is alone and with all my hopes dashed. At least for now I carry hope like a small white mouse in my pocket and it’s warm and running and soft, and I make the shape of what me and Marie could be in my head, and Sedge asks me what the fuck I’m smiling at, and I don’t tell him cos he just would’t understand.