Felicity looks like she’s having a bad hair day. Looks wrecked like she hasn’t slept all night or has been crying.
She’s in her third year and going for a first. That’s an insane amount of pressure to put on yourself.
I dropped everything and disappeared without telling anyone, went rock climbing for a few days. I can live with a 2/1. I’m back now … refreshed.
Felicity earns money from making sandwiches in this shop. That’s why I come here every day.
She must have seen me because she’s slicing cheese already.
I always have the same sandwich. She doesn’t need to ask. I stand in front of her counter.
She seems to be angry … with me? Why? Fury radiates from her. She doesn’t make eye-contact but says, “We don’t have normal cress, only water cress today.”
She doesn’t look right.
I ask, “You OK?”
“Watercress.” She’s not being careful with the knife, bits of cheese scattering. Something is badly wrong.
I touch her wrist. “You OK? Should I have told you I was going away for a while?”
I think I fucked up here. I didn’t know. No reaction except she stops moving. I turn the touch to a stroke.
The knife clatters onto the stainless steel surface.
Somehow we’re tangled at the end of the counter, my hand in her hair, her hot mouth on mine.
©Gary Bonn, 2016