Sunday, February 11, 2007

Brighton to London - another short story

(short means short)

As the train pulled out of the station, Poi settled himself comfortably into a corner seat. The carriage was empty but a girl, who gave her name as Lucy came and sat down opposite him.

The predominant theme of her clothes was magenta. She had a magenta t shirt, a matching magenta skirt, gloves, leather jacket, thong (well this detail came out later) tights and shiny shoes.

And a magenta belly button ring.

They chatted of this and that, Big Brother came up, so did George Orwell who Poi played cards with. Various other people got into the carriage and she confided to Poi.

“You know I can’t stand the way they look at me as if I were a tart.”

There was a silence.

“I suppose it is my own fault for having my work clothes on.”
“What do you do?”
She gave him what can only be described as “a look”.

She leaned closer, “I am an actress.”
There was a pause
“and a psychotherapist and a spiritual healer”
There was another pause
“and a masseuse.”
“Oh I see.”
“And, if you must use the word, a tart.”

Derek McMillan



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