It's Friday, 6PM, aka my favourite time of the week. Why, you ask? Because it's when I go to get coffee at Blue's in the mall. Their coffee is delicious, but the real reason I go there is the much more delicious barista, Evan.
I am standing in line, trying to think of a good conversation opener. I peek around the 5 people standing between me and my crush dose of the week and smile. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, basking in the bittersweet fragrance of coffee and the buttery aroma of pastries, when I smell something weird. Something that oddly reminds me of rotten milk.
Someone must have farted, haha.
I open my eyes to find a finger pointed at me, so close I have to blink twice before focusing at the guy past it.
"How could you?" he exclaims loudly, his finger trembling a little.
What?
"This is a public space! There are people here! Hell, there are children here!" He goes on, finally taking his finger away from my face to point at a kid a few feet away, staring at us with wide eyes, his chocolate covered hand frozen a few inches away from his mouth.
"Excuse me, what?"
"You... You farted!"
My mouth drops open. People around us gasp in outrage, whether at my alleged fart or at his words, I'm not sure.
"It-it wasn't me!" I finally manage to say, though I can feel my cheeks blazing.
"Yes, it was. I heard it!"
I am so embarrassed I can barely speak. My mouth opens and closes like a dying fish, and I can barely mutter "did not!" though it comes out as more of a whisper.
I look around, and notice that people have noticeably distanced themselves from us. Some are barely stifling their laughter, others are waving their hands under their noses.
Oh shit, Evan.
I dare a glance at him, the five people previously between us having seemingly disappeared.
He's laughing.
I wish I could combust on the spot. Or be swallowed up by the earth. Or even have an eagle come in from the open windows and whisk me away to wherever its younglings lay. But instead I have to settle for the more practical alternative: I turn around and speed walk out of there.
YOU ARE READING
Fart Girl
Historia Corta"Catherine on a tree, F-A-R-T-I-N-G. First comes the sound-" I half want to stop him, but I really do want to see where this is going. "Then comes the smell. Then comes..." I signal for him to continue, an expectant expression on my face. "Then come...
