Looks and Wishes

In a queue he attracts my gaze.

Thirty-ish maybe, with shaved

head, neat beard, plaid shirt,

jeans, and bright green canvas

high-tops. From a few feet away

I estimate measurements: maybe

four inches taller, five pounds

lighter, but definitely within

the right ranges. He’s intent

on ordering his drink, not

looking behind. Coffee or tea

in hand, he’ll be re-settles at his

corner table by the time I find

a place to sip my beer and

scan the local papers, my back

toward him though I manage

some over-the-shoulder glances

unseen and unreturned. I haven’t

time to linger, but as I depart,

I risk a final look, which he this

time briefly returns, but whether

with interest or without it’s

impossible to determine without

asking him directly, and that

seems just a bit too forward.


Copyright 2014

  1. Allen Culpepper

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