When I get off the train I wrap the lanyard my keys are on round my wrist twice and I position a key between each knuckle.
A month or so in.
I think it’s tacky to be honest but he’s getting on my nerves and I know he’ll pay so I order everything.
He tells me his guilty pleasure is watching Eastenders, on his phone, in his lunch break.
I find this surprisingly sweet.
I’m angry at him, but God he’s beautiful.
How great it’s going to be.
He never calls me back.
I got a text in the morning, like are you in – I ended up in your area last night.
I literally couldn’t believe it.
You’re stunning too I say. Keep saying.
It was kind of weird though.
Well, his friend came in.
Yeah no, he kind of got involved.
And all the lights in the world turn off.
And all the volume goes up.
And all the vices get tighter.
And the heat becomes unbearable.
And we both just sit there in silence.
And she’s got a bruise on her wrist.
And I sit there and make a wish.
Please please let this not be what I think it is.
Tutku Barbaros is a writer and an artist. She’s one third of the loud mouthed Plunge Theatre with whom she’s on a mission to combat mental health issues through body positive theatre. She also works with ADF focusing on raising the profile of BAME arts practitioners. She writes across forms, follow her on Twitter!