Reasons to Live - a collection of flash fiction stories

Midnight Show

In the theater, midnight showing of some movie with Russian dialogue and badly translated captions. You ordered a small box of popcorn and made sure I had some, even though I was on a diet.

The trailer seamed to go on for hours, but you didn't care. The theater was almost empty anyway. There was some guy sitting ten rows down, and a small cluster of friends sitting seven over. It didn't matter that you didn't know a word of Russian anyway.

In your coat pocket you had slipped in a bottle of beer and we shared from the same foamy neck. You would lick your lips every time you swallowed. It made me want to watch you more than this lousy film.

During the last half hour you placed your hand on my thigh and let it roam to my crotch. I cried out, but you hushed me with a touch of your fingers to my lips.

 Whispering words I understood you knelt onto the floor and slipped between my legs. I whimpered as my zipper opened, scanned the room when you slipped your hand between the folds of material. Wide eyed, like an animal caught in the headlights, I wanted to dash away. But you hushed me, told me that no one would care anyway. 

© Christine Bottas. All rights reserved 2015-2016.