Fire Woman

I stood on the sidewalk while I was on break, feeling the stale, cool wind of late autumn drifting. I wanted to have myself a cancer stick, having to deal with the damn customers all day long, but I was out of matches and there was no one smoking in sight.

So I leaned up against the side of the building, just standing there craving a cig but not able to do a damn thing about it. I was looking ‘round a bit, just sort of listening to the dry leaves get skittered all about, thinking that maybe the calm breeze might take a load off my mind, when I saw a sexy little number walking down the sidewalk right toward me.

I had a smoke between my fingers already, and unconsciously put it between my lips as I watched her approach. She was a short little thing, maybe about 5’1”, and had curves on her like you wouldn’t believe. I remember watching those legs of hers, all wrapped up in a pair of tight black jeans, and then my gaze drifted on up to her chest. She had a black hooded sweatshirt on that was unzipped in the front, and underneath that was a real snug-fitting red shirt, nice and low cut. I stared at her pale cleavage for a bit, but was afraid she’d spot me so I moved my eyes along.

Her hair was something between blonde and brown and red all at the same time, and it fell in straight waves down to her waist. It was lifting and falling with the wind behind her, and made me stop to look at her face. It was a gorgeous face really; ivory skin with a slight flush of the cheeks from the cool wind blowing, and delicate, graceful features. She looked up at me when she got within 20 feet or so, and she had these turquoise-colored eyes that just froze me. I know the eyeliner must have made them look better than they really were, but I got the feeling that even without it she would have knocked me out.

She gave me a soft little smile and looked on ahead to keep walking, but I had to say something.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” I said, trying to sound real cool like the guys in the movies, “you wouldn’t happen to be able to light me up, would ya?”

First she let out a real heavy sigh and closed her eyes. Then she gave off kind of a half-chuckle, and I got a bit irritated. I felt as if she was dismissing me, like some little kid or something, when all I was doing was complimenting her. I tried again.

“Aw, come on, all I need’s a little flame. You can’t give me just a spark?”

And then, ladies and gents, she did something that I’m not ever going to forget for the rest of my life. She turned and looked at me, and those turquoise eyes weren’t turquoise no more. I swear to God, there were all sorts of different yellows and reds and oranges in her irises, and those little pupils of hers had gone all blue-tinged, like the middle of a gas flame.

By the hand of the Almighty, let me be struck down where I stand if I didn’t start coughing on the smoke that had started to fill my lungs, on account of the fact that my cigarette was lit, and she hadn’t even touched it.

I regained my composure, but I still couldn’t muster up nothing to say. I just stared at her, and for a real brief second she had this look in her burning eyes, like she was debating whether or not Yours Truly was next in line for the barbeque. But then she blinked, and they were back to being that really pretty turquoise color again. She gave me a real flirtatious wink and a smile, and with a voice like a little girl said, “Later, hot stuff.” And she just kept on walking down the street.

I let the cig drop out of my mouth, and watched her until she crossed the street and went on around a corner and was out of view. I scratched my head even as I kept staring at her hair and her hips moving away. I resolved right then and there to quit smoking, and went back inside to finish up my shift.