Friday Night

She sat there feeling the after-effects of her blueberry long island iced tea. Desperation heavy on her tongue, she could taste it on her lips. More like loneliness as she made eye contact with the stranger across from her on the train. She didn't smile.
Smiles were reserved for .....for....no one, but herself.

Smile at him.

She urged herself to no avail, telling herself.
He couldn't possibly want you.
Her gaze kept meeting his...

What if?

He got up with a stronger switch than her hips could muster without seeming....loose.

She laughed.
She still had it in her - the thought of the possibility of someone, something new.
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