I’m terribly sorry but you don’t fit in a 250word story

She’s all eyeliner, a great fitting dress, and a broken heart. I’m all messed up, thinking of how things will end the moment I meet her. My mind wanders to a screaming match that I’m silent during.

We have a few drinks and talk about the regular things- where we’ve been, where we want to go. All the things that scratch the surface without breaking any skin.

“Love Sick” by Dylan is playing on the jukebox. I remember two things- walking back showered by stars in the rural south, and you. With a brain full of emotion.

She makes a joke and I touch her hand- briefly. Everything about tonight is brief. The kisses are brief. The hand holding is brief. I could even say our connection is brief.

She leans over, hand on my knee, and whispers a joke in my ear. I don’t hear it- the bar is too loud, but I laugh just the same. She starts laughing before I do.

We walk out of the bar, she’s in front and I study the lines of her dress. They caress her as I long to. She takes my hand as I walk her back to her apartment.

She starts humming a tune. I don’t recognize it- at first. After the first few bars I know it’s “Standing in the Doorway” by Dylan. Out of Mind is apparently our soundtrack. We kiss and our hands wander. Outside her apartment, as the rain starts to fall, we taste salt.