Thursday, February 26, 2009

Episode 30: Spaghetti Straps

Episode 30


The waiter left them. Synch studied her dark eyes, her smooth round face and those lips, full, defined, kissable. He’d like to find out how kissable.
“Do you always stare at your date?” she asked blushing and smiling.
“Sorry.” It was his turn to blush.
He sipped his wine. And fiddled with the table napkin.
“Have you always lived in Brisbane?”
“No,” she said. “I was born in Melbourne, grew up in Bundaberg and moved to Brisbane to be with my ex.” She momentarily looked down. “There weren’t a lot of job opportunities for young people in Bundy either. What about you?”
“Almost the same. Born in Melbourne, grew up in Gympie and moved to Brisbane to take up an apprenticeship.”
“A trade?”
“Motor mechanic. Lasted three months, hated it,” he said.
“Then what?”
“Checkout Charlie, pizza delivery, cleaner at a backpackers hostel. I met a lot of friendly travelers from overseas there. One Japanese guy told me how he was making a fortune online.”
“Why was he backpacking if he had a fortune?”
“He’d already visited Australia and done the guided tour thing. He loved it and wanted to see it again at ground level as he put it. He taught me a great deal about how to set up an online business.”
“So you tried it and hit the jackpot,” she smiled.
“Not exactly,” he said. “It took a few years to perfect it. I made a lot of mistakes, found a lot things not to do but the advances I made were encouraging. I kept at it. It was the only thing I really liked doing.”
“What do your parents think about your business?” she asked.
He smiled thinking how less odd-ball they seemed as he got older.
“Took a while to grasp the concept that a computer is my tool of trade. They still believe a good quality spanner or screw driver is more dependable than the internet.”
“There might be some truth in that,” she said.
“Yeah, servers do go down from time to time,” he said.
The restaurant was filling up and getting warm. She leaned forward and removed her long sleeved blouse. Her spaghetti strap camisole sat neatly across her breasts. The round mounds…
“What jobs have you had?” he asked purposely cutting off his thoughts. Got to stop the normal physical re-action to looking at well rounded breasts.
Too late.
The waiter arrived with their meals.


By Diane L Wood

My Bio:
A Short Short Story:

(You may need to copy and paste these to your browser’s address bar.)

No comments:

Post a Comment