I remember you like it was last night. It was getting late and I had just made it to the apartment after that grueling two and a half hour drive home from Panama City. I lazily walked up the three flights of stairs to my residence, head down and arms swinging, not paying much attention to my usual ascent and then my peripherals spot you… Sitting on the very top step of our level. A glass of whiskey in your hand and a dying cigarette in your other. You shuffle over to the railing as I make my way past and give me a polite “excuse me” with a smile.
As I unlock the door to my unit I turn my head towards your direction, admiring your figure from behind. Your freshly sun-kissed skin and showered blonde hair are dead give aways that you were at the beach today. I tried imagining you in a bikini. Lucky beach goers.