More coldness fell as minutes went by. The buses stopped operating for the night. I’m stranded.
And I’m freezing. To keep my blood circulating, I’ve decided to leave the station. Some streetlamps weren’t working, but occasional vehicles gave me additional lights. There were no lovers about – none quarrelling on the sidewalk or sneaking out, like none of them was cheating or would contact a disease eventually.
Coffee. I badly need coffee, I thought. And some shelter, some heat, some man to seduce tonight. Someone with acceptable face.
A boy was sitting on the sidewalk. I inquired about the nearest coffee shop. He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch. His focus remained on his phone, his gaze burning.
I asked again, moving sideways. He looked up, hid his phone and said he doesn’t know. But in his mind, perhaps, the sex scandal continues to roll like Ferris wheel. Intense and burning. (To be continued)
