Friday, August 30, 2013

Indian Summer


The smell of ink filled Katherine’s head. Every day, in and out she sat at this desk, typing away. Three weeks had past since her last encounter with George. He had left this summer for a holiday with his wife and young son, which meant she had not seen him around the bank. She was happy for this, because there could be no awkward exchanges with him absent. Yet, though she hated to admit it, she missed him with every fiber of her being. How she longed to be wrapped around him in a plush bed in some distant room. Even at the thought of his smile and those hazel eyes she felt her head begging to spin. She needed air. This office was far too stuffy. She walked over to the window that sat just beyond her desk. Boston was becoming far to hot for her taste, even in early September the sun was beating down on the growing city. She forced the window open. Goodness, how long has it been since someone opened it? She looked at the window and saw little blotches of ink smeared on it. Glancing down at her hands she saw that they were covered in ink. She must have gotten it on her while typing the report. Closing her eyes, Katherine leaned against the wall next to the window. Far away, a door opens and closes. A voice makes a greeting to the new arrival. Someone says her name. Slowly she opens her eyes and sees George standing in front of her. The heat of the room begins to over power her. She cannot breathe. The floor seems to be getting closer and closer.
“Katherine?!” “Katie!”
Blank.

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