The Taster: No Visible Flicker
No Visible Flicker is the companion piece to The Glass Office. Hear the full, raw backstory by diving into the Main Course after enjoying my Taster story...
No Visible Flicker
London was hot, really hot.
The Lunchtime sun was glorious, joyous in fact.
I defy anyone not to feel delighted by the excited, heated electricity of Central London in the summer.
The winding streets jostled every kind of person.
Immaculate and expensive suits spilling out of the bars and onto the pavements to loll in the heat and guffaw with their pals.
I sat on the steps of Saint Pauls and enjoyed the fresh M&S sushi whilst I eyed them with envy.
Having spent the morning with a friend I was ambling towards the station to make my way home.
I must admit that as wonderful as London was in summer above ground; the underground took away some of the shine.
Venturing into the dirty stifle of TFLs subterranean air was not an appetizing prospect and I was lollygagging hard.
I finished my lunch and leaned back on my hands and let the sunshine run over my face and sighed as I stood up.
I walked.
The rhythmic rap of my summer heels on the parched stone was a sound I always appreciated. I like the authority of it, the announcement of it.
I was close to the station.
I looked towards my fellow pedestrians flowing in the opposite direction.
I had to do a double take.
My face remained unchanged as I locked eyes with him as he and his wife walked towards me. She was talking animatedly at his side.
His expression perfectly mirrored mine.
No visible flicker of recognition from either of us.
No outward sign that we had ever even met, let alone done the things that we had done only two days prior in his glass office.
Only our eyes collided as we passed each other.
I didn`t look back.
Why would I?
Within a few seconds I heard the ping sneak out of my bag.
I smiled.
You know the kind of smile that cannot be helped, the one you see on the face of strangers when they read a message that you know is dirty.
“You had better be wearing that top next time we fuck”
I entered the close heat of the station and returned my phone to my bag.
There was no need to reply.
He knew I would.
