Sunday 3 April 2022

Mass

by Kelly Nickie


I smiled at him
not because
he was the designated
Don Juan
in this shit hole of a bar
it was his overconfident grin
all teeth
gleamed in my direction
politely excusing his tall and boned frame
brushing my body
I reciprocated
with my best
gawky but forgiving grimace

Thirty minutes later
he sideswiped me
excused himself again
slurred a fuzzed apology
did not mean
to bump into me

but made sure
not to leave
without rubbernecking
down and up
and then
up and down
my mass of
skin
blood
bones

then
the excited shriek of a woman with a high-strung pony tail
summoned his name
made him turn around
ready to embrace


* * * * *

Kelly Nickie is an avid reader, writer, and coffee drinker living within the perimeter highway of Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. She finds mundane objects and phrases of the everyday and turns them into second thoughts. Her work has been published in Pure Slush, Juice, Generation, Door = Jar, and in the Winnipeg Free Press.



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