The Electrocution

The man pulled up in a black SUV at the busy corner of Van Ness Avenue and Geary Street—part of the Tenderloin stroll. He tilted his head slightly down and looked at the girl dressed in tight blue jeans, heels, a black leather jacket. She lowered her body slightly and peered into the car—her long hair falling. She could not see the man’s eyes—it was dark.

The girl was pretty. Twenties. Not so hard like so many. Heavy makeup on her face. Bluish circles under her blue eyes. She stood there peering in—trying to see. There was a moment’s hesitation—a pulling back of her elegant body—a pause—like a puff of air—out of nowhere—during a flat day—a desert day.