Chicago summer humidity…
And her skirt is too short. Legs, shiny with sweat and lotion glide through the thick air, flecks from the pavement sticking to her slender calves. I envied her thighs but finished my M&M McFlurry anyway.
For the thirtieth time I flipped open my cell phone hoping for a message from him.
I wasn’t in the mood to be in my own company tonight, but wasn’t sure who else I would be satisfied sharing a drink.
Quickly, I shove the thought into a back corner of my mind with a shudder.
I regain my stride. Flip flops slapping the sidewalk in a steady rhythm. Thwap, thwap, thwap, thwap I drown out my disgust.