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I remember the smoldering sun. ‘Gorgeous,’ she said. I smiled and she liked my smile. We climbed a tree. We lazed in the branches, panted with the heat, kissed and licked. Maybe we both knew. This is Oxford Road. The rain is heavy and the city lights smear like kaleidoscopes, but still we run. It was the hottest day of the year; Julie’s dress was a thin strip of cloth wrapped around her body. The beauty of it made my teeth ache. I stared from across Oxford Road, where Wilbraham Road turns into Mosley Street and students get drunk and play table tennis in the Queen of Tarts. She wore her hair in a tight ponytail and carried a light pink cloth bag. When she spotted me she waved, turned away, and floated into the road. A glaring sun was dropping in the west. She floated. Through the large glass windscreen I saw the driver’s tired eyes, distracted by the low cut tops and hiked up skirts of the Mancunian girls, but not concentrating on the most beautiful one of them all. Bad timing. A wolf howled. This is Oxford Road. I run alongside the head-high wall of Platt Park as the bus accelerates towards Fallowfield. This is a quiet section; all the activity stays in the Curry-Mile, or starts again in Fallowfield. The traffic lights fall green and the bus speeds on. Wolf runs ahead and I am forced to catch up. The indicator flickers and I know that it is her. The bus stops, pauses, and ÉCLAT FICTION

57

MAY 2012

Profile for Eclat Fiction

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

Éclat Fiction - Issue 3  

The third issue of Éclat Fiction (an online short story anthology). www.eclatfiction.com

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