A Slight Shiver

In Fiction, Prose on April 21, 2009 at 7:03 pm

The alarms are going off.  Alarms that require attention.  Attention to the details, to the shiver...  And you’re suddenly checking in with yourself, checking in with the breathe, with the scent, with the hands.  Their are hands on the small of your back, hands that carry weight and a sense of humor… the shiver creeping up your spine isn’t related to the weather, but to the face peeking over your shoulder.


He didn’t mean to shock your system, he was just trying to reach the water cooler.  But now you’re sinking into something sticky.  The engine’s stalling.  You know you should say something witty, but instead you’re staring into his eyes, into his very deep eyes.  You can see every little imperfection.  Why are you so close?  

He smiles when you teeter, your mental deviations going unnoticed, the palpitations slowing.  Sweat makes it’s way to your warm places, to try and cool your pulse, but its presence only makes things worse.  And he’s still close… or are you?  Are you leaning into him?  Did you just smell him?  WHAT are you DOING?

It’s definitely time to say something… something clever, something so funny he’ll be thinking about it all day- no, you!  He’ll be thinking about YOU all day.  You can do this.  You can, you can, and you will!  So you open your lips (are they chapped?  Oh God, when’s the last time you put on that lip balm that makes your lips plump? Is it in your pocket?  Could you get away with a quick application?)  But then isn’t… he’s speaking!  He’s saying something to you right now.  How on earth are you ever going to answer him if you don’t stop talking to yourself?

And then he’s gone, turned and walking away, his thirst quenched and yours just beginning.  

Funny that hands on your middles could move you to panic.  So funny, in fact, that you have to sit down for a moment till the feeling comes back to your face and you can laugh normal again.

  1. I wish I had that affect on women… WOW!

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