Work night

Written by David Dylan

Lyrics quoted: Sensitize / That Petrol Emotion.



She's too young and by far not innocent enough for him. Under the knockout-blonde exterior anything could be lurking. A chaste virgin with dreams of the one true lover. Or a child with too many boyfriends. He doesn't know.

"Heard a secret and saw you smiling..."

She sits at the other desk, always in the same room with him. Her perfume drives him wild, even if he can't smell it. One day she came in wearing some old rags. She looked fabulous in them. She had been called in to work on such a short notice that she hadn't had time to change. He thanked all deities he could think of.

"So convincing, you're so beguiling..."

Of course she doesn't give him her phone-number. She's too young for him, he's too old. He's not even sure if he wants the number at all. Either he would use it and risk breaking the spell, or not and be in agony, cursing himself for his cowardice.

"Leave me breathless, I can't think straight at all..."

Sometimes he wonders if the rest notices the way he is always trying to get close to her. There really isn't any way they couldn't notice. Or was his mind blowing things out of proportion? He looked her way another time, pretending to be looking at her computer-screen to see how far along she was. He dialed a number without looking. The job was routine to him. To her too, they were both veterans at the company.

"Leave me breathless..."

The headset pressed into his head. A dial tone interrupted his thoughts. A click, and he was just a few split seconds too late to disconnect before the modem screamed in his ear. The start of a headache started to throb in the back of his skull. Shitty job. Nice people, decent pay, but a shitty job nevertheless. He felt stupid; he didn't need the money at all that month. He had made a few good scores, and money was no problem. But he knew she would be working that night. And the funny thing was that she always picked a spot close to him. He never waited for her to pick a spot so he could pick one with a view on her legs. Was she aware of his interest in her? She must have been for a long, long time. He never was one for much subtlety.

"I can't think straight at all..."

There was a note-pad on the desk. A supervisor must have left it there. The computer flickered in his eyes. The blue screen faded as his eyes lost focus. He shook his head, reached a decision and tore a scrap of paper from it. Quickly he scribbled his phone number on it. "Call me, and good luck with your exams..." He felt like a schoolboy. For a brief moment he considered putting it in her coat-pocket, but instead he hung on to it until they were walking to the station together. Then he gave it to her. She smiled, and put it in her pocket with a gesture that suggested that it would probably stay there until it was time to bring the coat to the drycleaners. He was sure she would never even look at it, but he felt better anyway. For a short, very short, moment he hoped the mere gesture would make her confess her undying love to him, but he walked home alone. His mind was relaxed for the first time in weeks. He started humming a song he knew, shook his hair from his eyes and let the rain run down his face.

"Dam burst drowning your favorite feelings - avalanches that chill all healing spurning indigo, Celebrate..."

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