We're planning a trip to the beach. You'll be there and so will I but so will the cousins and aunties. We are trying to figure out how all these people will fit in a seven-seater. You say the girls will just have sit on laps. I think to myself I would like to sit on your lap but then I stop imaging. You're the driver, I will never get to sit on your lap. Even more so I am the daughter of your employers. You would never do anything to jeopardize your job and I would never want you to. Though it was a nice thought. Me in my jean shorts, neon pink swimsuit and long beaded braids rubbing against you. You'll probably be dripping in sweat; you'll smell like cheap cologne and musk. You'll be wearing thin clothing, whether from the heat or it's all you could afford, I'll never know. What I do know is that I'll be able to feel your muscles, the hardens of your chest and the strength of your arms. If I'm lucky your callous fingers might brush up against my thighs and set my soul on fire. But it is a line that will never be crossed.
Author's Note: A little forbidden love anyone?
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Manic Pixie: Black Girls and the Everyday
Short StoryA collection of stories about black women and girls living their lives. Including stories of love, heart break, depression, fantasy, and pure joy. Please note that most of these stories are first drafts and will likely be updated as I work on them...
