The words over at Three Word Wednesday are brandish, forbid and manage.
“You’re certainly not the man I though you were,” she cried through an expensive silk hanky. “And I forbid you to make a fool of me one more time.”
“That’s it, I just can’t take it anymore.”
The train has lurched to a stop. She bends forward, brandishes the rounded softness of her cleavage, an extended view I cannot turn away from, then brings her manicured hand across my face. The sting of its surprise manages to bring tears welling to the corners of my eyes.
She exits the train and for the next two stops, I feel the heat of the passengers' perturbed stare all over me as I try and sink into the robin’s egg-blue plastic seat and rub the prickly sting of my red-raked cheek.
My walk to the office is consumed with nervous confusion. I get to my desk, finger the breast pocket of my dress shirt. Again and again.
I pull out the business card between two fingers, feeling the creamy ivory cardstock that’s embossed with a single telephone number in chunky black type.
On the back, written in a tight, perfect script is one word…