His nerves danced like flames. “Where was she?” he thought. It had been quite a few minutes since she excused herself to the bathroom to put some clothes on before they….well before they whatever. He had no idea what to expect and questioned himself whether he was dong the right thing at all. “What the hell are you afraid of?” he kept repeating in his head, not that his brain was listening. He almost stood up and slipped out quietly into the night, but the thought of being rude quelled his innocent anxiety. All at once his racing thoughts were suddenly cut silent as the bathroom door finally opened.
This article appears in Jun 24-30, 2009.