A walk

The air was cool and moist. The sky was a placid gray. She had told the people at work she would only be stepping out for a minute. Maybe she had said "a few minutes." But one minute turned into five. Five turned into ten. Ten turned into twenty. Twenty minutes with him. Next to him.

She noticed the nape of his neck, the clean taper of his haircut.

"Did you get a haircut?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"When?"

"Last night."

"Ah."

"Why?"

"I just noticed it and figured you got a haircut."

"Okay."

They walked along the water, watched the blue ripples lap against the wooden docks and talked about nothing. There were things she wanted to say, things she wanted to do. But her skin held it all in. She let the air between them circulate around her and him uselessly. She held her spine straight so that her back would not buckle under the weight, that thick heavy weight that bore on her mind. She watched him speak his words the same way he walked, careful, articulate and perfect.

Then they went back to the office.

"This was nice," she said, looking at his face.

"Yeah it was," he replied. "I gotta get back to my desk."

"Oh, okay."

"Bye," he said and walked away.

"Bye," she said.