Reasons to Live - a collection of flash fiction stories

Swept Away

She realized that she was 20 minutes early. What was she doing here anyway? Outside June scorched. Everyone was at the beach. She was a fool to have shunned her friends' pleas to accompany them to the sea-side for the weekend. Here she was stuck in an artificially cooled room, fussing at the hem of her skirt, waiting.

The water bottle on the desk had been quite cold when she'd left home; now condensation trickled into the flat surface and pooled by the notepad she left too close. The clock ticked away. The sun rose higher in the sky, the air around her temples cooled and told her she was right where she needed to be.

By now they would all be dipping their toes in the salty waves. Most of them would be grabbing a chilled beer right and laughing. She closed her eyes and felt the rays of summer touch her lips. Her arms were bare, a thin strap held up her top, artificial chill caressed her. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

One by one they trickled in, sat and began to chat. No one took notice of her. She could play invisible for the day, after all she was not here to make friends.

The hands on her wrist watch whispered that it was nearly time. She covered its mouth and tried to hush its silly sound. Soon everyone would be in their seats. Soon it would begin. She reached for her water, wrapped her fingers tightly around it. The door opened, it was the scent of spices and cigarettes that made her look up.

'Good morning, class.' His voice was baritone, a deep chime that you may envision coming from the lips of a work of art some grant painter had created way before she was born. His smile was electric, his prescience was the sun, and every word he spoke broke pleasantly at her knees. Summer had come, it always came and left with him. Slowly her eyes closed and she allowed herself to be swept away.  

© Christine Bottas. All rights reserved 2015-2016.