Her breath comes in short gasps

Fogging in November

He watches her, jogging in the grey

As he has every morning since he got the job

With the window on the second floor

And every morning her face is the same

Set, fixed, frozen

A look he calls determination

While he fantasizes about what she looks like beneath her sweats

And sets aside his work at seven each morning

Waiting for sneakers to pound cement

Its getting colder as the weeks go by

It never occurs to him she won’t pass

Something in her upheld chin

And as he watches, learns her pace

It occurs to him her eyes don’t see the road

Or the city

Or him in his cubicle, dreaming a way out

So when he sees her at a party

Wife of the boss of his boss or something like that

Dressed to kill in black

With a smile painted oh so sweetly on her face

All he can see is a pretty doll dressed up

Despite his wandering eyes

That trace the curves, the product of his daily dose of eye candy

And something doesn’t fit

As he recalls her frozen eyes

And what he took for determination seems like desperation now

In the light of the dimming lamps

The polite chatter of his co-workers falls dead upon his ears

He wishes it was morning

He hails a waiter

“Bring the woman in black another beer”

It’s all he knows how to do

And he goes home feeling helpless

Waiting for seven o’clock.

A/N not sure how i feel about this one. it gets too cliched in parts. suggestions will be welcomed and fed candy.