First Impressions Read Online Free Page A
Author: Josephine Myles
my old stop -- our stop now -- he’s not always able to get that seat, but it doesn’t stop us trying.
I watch him crossing his legs. I study the way the turquoise and yellow zig-zag socks cling to his ankles. I remember picking them out for him, thinking that they were like a Bridget Riley painting, and the grin on his face when I gave them to him that evening. I’ve realized that he can make the most tacky, clashing colors look good just by being in them. I’ve realized that I don’t need to be angry anymore.
I’ve realized that I’m worth loving.
I watch him and remember how wrong I was. Every now and then he looks up at me, smiling, but mostly we just pretend to be strangers. It keeps me from taking him for granted.
It’s always crowded on our return journey, and the seats are all taken. We stand next to each other, clinging onto the same handhold, our bodies nudging together with the rattling motion of the train. We murmur into each other’s ears about our days. We walk home from the station, side by side.
At night, when we tumble into bed, I always remember to look up at the triptych of framed sketches over our headboard. On the left, the stranger on the train, naked apart from his shoes and bright pink socks. In the middle, a portrait of a dreadlocked man with forlorn, lovesick eyes. And on the right, a man called Steve, posing in his stripy underwear on the day he demolished the last of my first impressions.
First Impressions
Copyright © 2010 by Josephine Myles
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680
Printed in the United States of America.
Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / January 2011
Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680
I watch him crossing his legs. I study the way the turquoise and yellow zig-zag socks cling to his ankles. I remember picking them out for him, thinking that they were like a Bridget Riley painting, and the grin on his face when I gave them to him that evening. I’ve realized that he can make the most tacky, clashing colors look good just by being in them. I’ve realized that I don’t need to be angry anymore.
I’ve realized that I’m worth loving.
I watch him and remember how wrong I was. Every now and then he looks up at me, smiling, but mostly we just pretend to be strangers. It keeps me from taking him for granted.
It’s always crowded on our return journey, and the seats are all taken. We stand next to each other, clinging onto the same handhold, our bodies nudging together with the rattling motion of the train. We murmur into each other’s ears about our days. We walk home from the station, side by side.
At night, when we tumble into bed, I always remember to look up at the triptych of framed sketches over our headboard. On the left, the stranger on the train, naked apart from his shoes and bright pink socks. In the middle, a portrait of a dreadlocked man with forlorn, lovesick eyes. And on the right, a man called Steve, posing in his stripy underwear on the day he demolished the last of my first impressions.
First Impressions
Copyright © 2010 by Josephine Myles
All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680
Printed in the United States of America.
Torquere Press, Inc.: Sips electronic edition / January 2011
Torquere Press eBooks are published by Torquere Press, Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680
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