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That's The Way It Ought To Be

Diane is driving to Mark's house. She drives carefully because the passenger seat is carefully balanced with delicious food for lunch. She owes Mark several lunches and now it is time to pay him back. She is excited, and she feels guilty about being excited. What would Dewayne say?

Diane isn't sure about anything at this moment. At this moment she is all instinct. All sensation. Her nerves are tingling. It is delicious. Like the lunch she is bringing. There is cold fried chicken she made herself with cracker crust. There is mustard potato salad with pimentos and celery and there is peach pie. Dewayne asked her who she was making the pie for and she lied. She said it was for her mom. But it was for her secret lunch with Mark.

It would be followed by an hour or so of bantering flirting exploring the air between them. There will be sexual tension so thick that to not comment upon it seems ridiculous. Still care and discretion are the watch words. Besides, what would Dewayne say?

Diane is excited to be escaping her life, her routine if only for a few hours. It will provide her with a fresh set of fantasies to last her a few weeks at least. She stops at a red light. In the grassy yard of an apartment complex across the street she sees two men and a boy. One of the men, a large fat man with a mane of white hair, is pointing his finger at the chest of the other man, who is the soul of supplication. Loud voices are in the air, and the boy looks down at his shoes. Diane notices that the first buds of spring are appearing in the apartment complex window boxes. Someone behind her honks. The light has changed to green. Diane is excited. She hopes that the food won't get too cold before she gets to Mark's house. She wonders what Dewayne would say. She wonders if he would even care.


turn sides: That's The Way It Is


words: Michael K. White, Colorado (stories)
image: 'the road not taken' - Michael Brandonisio, NYC (at Counterexample)


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BluePrintReview - issue 25 - two²