The ways we don’t touch

Posted: 2011 in Post: 10.3
Tags: , , ,

Saturday, March 31, 12:11 p.m.

Exiting the pub, our shoulders don’t brush as Jack holds the door open for me.

Out in the parking lot, my hair doesn’t graze his face as it whips wildly in the wind.

In my car, our elbows don’t jostle as we buckle our seatbelts.

As I give him his cell phone and he gives me mine, our fingers don’t meet.

When I drop him off at his car five blocks from my house, we don’t hug or shake hands.

I wave. He raises his hand slightly.

He gets in his beat up old car. In my rearview mirror, I see him pull out onto the road and begin to slowly follow me home.




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