Conspicuous Absence in Vagary

  • March 13, 2018, 4:32 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

The heat of the sun beat down on his neck as he stared down into the water, legs swinging idly off the end of the pier. Rough edges bit into the back of his thighs causing him to shift occasionally to alleviate the pinching.

His eyes followed the sway of twisted, brownish green leaves sweeping back and forth, fish darting in and out seeking to eat or be eaten.

He let a wad of saliva lazily slide past his lips, stretching, thinning, before falling with a plunk, breaking the serene surface and sending ripples off out of his field of vision. The resultant frenzy brought a grin to his face as revolting as it was to watch his spit be consumed.

He tried to ignore the occasional sounds coming out of the bushes. Tried to ignore the intimate murmers and whispers as if they weren’t there. His eyes never left the pool of shimmering water in front of him until the burning heat on his neck was reflecting off the water and into his eyes.

Still he waited as the day drew onward. This wasn’t his business. Not his right to intrude no matter how much his curiousity might prod him to peek. He continued to sit idly as the light grew long, swinging his legs, shifting occasionally to alleviate the pinching in the back of his thighs.


No comments.

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.