fwriction

The night behind the clouds conflated with the snow to create the hue of a gray movie. A cab slowed as Mike hailed it with an outstretched hand. In the backseat, Mike reached over to close the door, which suddenly jerked open. Her blue eyes illuminated the taxi’s unlit cabin.

“You’re just going to leave?”

“I didn’t realize you were here,” Mike said. “I was at the bar.”

“Yeah I know,” Elle said. “You didn’t see me?”

“No. Did you see me see you?”

Elle shivered and shook her head.

“Hey boss,” the cabbie said. Mike saw the cabbie’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You goin’ or comin’?”

Mike glanced at Elle, waiting.

Mensah Demary, “The Games We Play”