A Tale of Waiting
by Jed R. Cruz
I'm meeting someone tonight.
She's waiting for me, just out of my reach. Somewhere out there, she's looking around, glancing at her watch and nervously wiping her eyeglasses clean. People walk past her and around her, too caught up in their own affairs to give her even a moment's notice. The lights of the city overwhelm the darkness that has descended.
It's a clear December night. The streets and sidewalks are moist from the frequent showers, and rainbows of gas are forming in small puddles. Every few feet or so, a gum wrapper or a flattened soda can lies silently, adding color to the bland gray of the pavement.
She doesn't notice any of this, though. I don't have to take her face in my hands and gaze into her eyes to know what's on her mind. I don't have to put a finger to her lips to feel her shivering, either. She's anxious, and she knows I'm late. I know I'm late.
More minutes pass, and she starts to feel conscious. Although surely no eyes have focu