After a bit of fumbling, his hand returned and my back archedinvoluntarily as he squeezed my nipple and then reached across tofondle the other breast....Meanwhile he guided my hand into his pants,insistent that it free his cock. Nobody seemed to notice what washappening; with what little room people had to maneuver, they seemedmore intent on text messaging with their phones or trying catch a fewwinks or were just generally zoned out. But my fellow was getting evenbusier. With my help, his cock. The Brown man put the toast down next to it. The headlines shouted to anyone that cared to read about another murder, then in the next breath slammed the government about the way money was spent. I tried to read it as I ate the toast, the film of butter running down the slope onto my finger tips. I wiped my hands on a white paper napkin. The words on the pages made no sense, seeming to be in another language, that shared the same words but gave them a new meaning, one that I couldn’t. More

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