[ She's right, to that extent. No wife, no kids, no girlfriend. (It's hard to keep up a relationship if your heart's not in it. Harder still if it's a girl you haven't spoken more than a few sentences to at a time that fills up your mind's eye. And hardest of all if every move she makes seems to say I love you, take me away from here. He keeps the receipts she tears for him and pores over each torn corner, mind dreaming up signal after signal from the basis of nothing at all. She fantasizes about the lives of her customers and he fantasizes about her. It makes him sick to his stomach but it has to be love if it burns like this.)
She smiles and he manages a tentative one in return, shaking his head slightly as he pulls his wallet from his pocket.
(You're pretty when you smile, d'you know t'at?) ]
Get distracted too easy, me, [ he says, by way of an extended apology.
A beat, and then, cautiously: ] Y' ever get tired o' the routine?
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She smiles and he manages a tentative one in return, shaking his head slightly as he pulls his wallet from his pocket.
(You're pretty when you smile, d'you know t'at?) ]
Get distracted too easy, me, [ he says, by way of an extended apology.
A beat, and then, cautiously: ] Y' ever get tired o' the routine?