Throwback City

She let him walk away. She stood on the kerb, a lonely red bangle dangling from her thin wrist. She had stopped him the last time, and the time before that. He had stopped, and she had been happy. Before she noticed him checking his watch, tapping his foot on the edge of the pavement. She didn’t stop him this time.

He still visits sometimes. He takes the bus of Acquaintance-ville and gets down at Hey-way. Their train of insidejokes-express has long since departed, though. If his mouth is downturned, she doesn’t know why. If he is walking with a swing in his step, she doesn’t know what to high-five to. Her eyes look far away, as if contemplating something serious, kohl-lined eyes half-closed, almost asleep to someone who doesn’t know her.

Today, she’s asleep to him, too.

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