At First Sight

I know I usually stick to poetry, but my mind needed something a little different tonight. I’m a little rusty. I’m sorry. 

She squatted down, trying to find the right angle as she peered through the viewfinder of her camera. She stood, climbed down off the folding chair and drug it a few inches to the right before climbing back onto her perch. From her position in front of the window, she could see over the tattoo artist’s shoulder, the side of his face just hitting the edge of her frame.

The click of her shutter and the buzz of his machine forming a chaotic beat in the shop, which was quieter than usual. The tune was interrupted by the sound of the door bell as someone walked in. She stood up and turned toward the door, making eye contact with a guy about her age. Neither of them looked away at first, but her anxiety allowed him to win the game of chicken.

“What the hell was that?” She thought to herself.

“I’m suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that my ass has been in the window this whole time,” She said, laughing.

“Why do you think I stopped in?” He asked. She blushed.

It’d been awhile since anyone had flirted with her. She wasn’t sure if he was joking until the artist asked him what he needed. He came around the corner and started explaining what he had in mind for his forearm.

“And then eventually I want to get a pin-up girl up here on my shoulder,” He said, pulling his sleeve up. She was briefly distracted by defined the muscles in his arms were. “Only I don’t want her to be thin.”

He glanced at her and she became aware of the shape of her own body, which certainly wasn’t “thin.”

“My man,” She said, laughing. “I approve.”

“I knew you would,” he said, settling into an empty seat next to the chair she was standing on. She grabbed a couple more photos before sliding down into the seat of the chair and pretending to fiddle with her camera.

He kept making excuses not to leave and she got the feeling he wanted her to walk out with him when he did, but she didn’t. The chime on the door sounded again and he was gone. She tried to shake the feeling that had buried itself in her stomach when their eyes met, but she couldn’t. It settled there, making itself at home. She wondered if she’d ever see him again.

The First Date

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