He positions himself across from her. She is deep within her book. He imagines touching her nylon wrapped thighs, legs crossed. He sees far up the thigh.
He waits for her legs to tire, as all women’s eventually do. He senses the moment, she uncrosses her legs and crosses again. He plays the image in his mind. The white under nylon, he is sweating.
She is looking straight at him.
“Freak,” she leaves the train.
For the Cafe.
Lust (as a sin)