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lovers paint hearts into the frost and ice on windscreens, their breath fogging up the glass like cheap sex in a doorway. rain drizzles down, soft and useless, on rows of scooters hunched in the alley, seats glazed with ice, waiting for some fool to come along and chip it off with a credit card
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and the buzzer short-circuits like a mad trumpet in the wires, brrrrap-brrrrap-brrrrap, amplified blasts ripping down the quiet hallway, salvo after salvo bursting into the black night outside, echoing off the peeling walls. and she’s there, right on time, bang on the dot, and his gut twists with that old primal howl for love and
