A Trench Coat

He was walking home from the coffee shop when he saw her. He didn’t know precisely why she drew his attention, but he found himself tumbling into speculation.

Photo by Eugenia Remark on Pexels.com

The easy one was that she was wearing sexy lingerie that was concealed by the trench coat. Was it red or black or maybe a less common color? Was she meeting a secret paramour or maybe a surprise for her partner?

But, no. Maybe she was a spy. He imagined a pencil skirt and sexy blouse that she was hiding from view. She might speak with a foreign accent and carry secret documents in her bag.

Just as he walked close enough to hear her speak into the intercom, her voice broke through his musings. No accent. She was trying to get “Mark” to buzz her in. She tapped her fingernails against the pad as she waited.

Then she turned as she heard him pass behind her. She smiled. “No wonder you weren’t answering. I forgot my keys.”

He leaned over to kiss her. “Hey, there, sexy lady. That trench coat gives a man ideas.” She blushed as he opened the door.

(190 words)

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