the life and musings of a kinky slut


~ a story ~


You can get so lost in what you’re doing, in whatever complication your life has churned up, that you don’t see something right in front of your face.

How many times had I sat on that hallway floor?  How many days had I spent studying hard, my nose literally in my books?  How many times had she passed me by before?

I’d never seen her in the building. She wasn’t in any of my classes. I never caught sight of this girl with the quirky clothing and the flash of a smile before today.

I don’t even know why I saw her this time, but I did.  It was a moment, a genuine heartbeat in my existence that slapped me across the face.

She walked by, almost skipping.  I caught the whiff of her body spray.  I don’t know why, but I looked up.

Leopard print flats.  Dark tight jeans.  A light blue button down shirt tied at the end.  Her hair in a messy bun.  Thick black-rimmed glasses.  A tight body and a beautiful face.

As she bent over, just slightly to walk up the ramp, it peeked out from the separation in her top and bottom.  There was a tattoo there on her lower back.

Maybe I’m making all this up.  Maybe she hasn’t passed me by every day that I’ve buried myself in facts and equations and diagrams and flashcards.  Maybe this moment is a one off, the only time I’ll ever see her, the only moment we’ll ever share.  As much as I hope it’s not, life is not always kind to me.

But I swear, I saw it.  In that heartbeat.  She turned her head back towards me.  Looked over her glasses.  And smirked, before skipping off to somewhere.

I hope my luck has changed.  I hope I’ll see her again tomorrow.

Categorised as: Gen Fiction

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