Derelict - Sex Stories

Derelict

... began. There was a thump of a body landing on a stool and then calm. Stillness matched his silence as he made himself at-home. A loden green and black tweed coat draped over a mystery: his body, his flesh buried. Just beneath the coat, layers of street, last year’s worries, and yesterday’s breakfast were discernible. Not sure how many pairs of pants, underwear, and socks he sported, but he was looking, well, padded – hefty and thick. Thick folds of cold-worn, filth-laden skin made his brown eyes look navy blue. The blue-brown glare cut my soul at its core; probably the sole soul affected amongst hundreds. Hundreds maybe even thousands of people walked over this man laying on the sidewalk everyday, including me. I’d failed to take the time - to make the time to recognize that the lump I walked over was a human being who deserved decency, cordiality, and respect. I’d failed. Head down, I watched my crimson painted toenails, bright gold toe ring, and shimmery anklet decorate my sandals. Head down, I watched my toe cleavage pressing from my pumps provide a peek-a-boo that looked like the divide between two breasts heaving from some fancy brassiere or ass crack hanging out of some low-riding jeans. Head down, I watched my ugly, but sensible snow boots make an edgy design in the freshly covered sidewalk. Head down, I sent and viewed hundreds of texts and raised my head up, for a brief moment only, to navigate the walkover. I cared more about the nuances and reflections of my ...

... well-dressed, sophisticated gait than I cared about a lump, a human settled on concrete. Seasons came; seasons went, and I walked over him everyday speechless, uncaring, and cold. But there was something about the bitter cold that day, something about the ashen sidewalk and cutting winds that made me look at him. On the way home from work, something made me speak to him, a familiar stranger: the recognizable landmark, a lump of a human being whom I did not know. Something made me offer him food, warmth, and a bath, not necessarily in that order. Surprisingly, it seemed as if he’d forgiven my past transgressions. Maybe he’d never noticed my walkovers, because he quietly followed me home. “I have decaf going. Thinking a nice tomato bisque and a golden grilled cheese would be good right now. What do you think? Or would you prefer hot cocoa?” Navy blue-browns stared at me with lips sealed shut. Didn’t receive a head nod or wave off from him for my troubles. I was the recipient of a morbid silence. “I believe I have some turkey, tomato, bacon, and avocado that I could add to your sandwich,” I added, as I twisted my waist length hair in a tidy knot on top of my head. I opened the refrigerator searching to confirm my proposal. “Are you a purist, or would you like something a little extra?” Without even looking up from my fiddling in the fridge, I knew that he wasn’t going to respond. Out the frosty window, daylight savings time had already dictated the darkness to set in. And my hasty ...