Beardy Man

Every day Libby got on the train and sat next to the man with the beard. Every day she breathed in his smell, enjoying the subtle cologne. Every day she admired his tight ass in his suit trousers as he walked down the platform on arrival at Cardiff Central. Every day she promised herself she’d talk to him, break the ice, but every day she left him alone, left him to his Facebook while she dreamed of his hand caressing her back, his lips touching her skin and well, that was as far as she went, she was a married woman after all. It was weird, she didn’t really know why she was attracted to him; he wasn’t drop dead gorgeous, he was no Brad Pitt. Most of Libby’s friends wouldn’t even notice him but there was something about the way he smelt, something about the little smile he shot her every time she got on the train, and something about that pert little ass that turned her on. He probably didn’t think anything of her, she was just the woman from the train, a face that he’d take time to place if they ever saw each other walk down the aisle in Tesco.  They’d sat next to each other every morning for about 6 months now but this morning there was someone else sitting in Libby’s seat. She looked forlornly at the beardy man who shrugged and then looked at his phone looking rather embarrassed.  She sat down in another seat, she could see beardy from there but it wasn’t the same, there wasn’t the smell, there wasn’t the proximity. She even lost him on the platform; somehow there was no sign of his sweet bum making its way to work.

Libby was in a foul mood all day, her boss was being a jerk, her customers being obtuse and her colleagues rabbiting about nothing but she knew that wasn’t the cause of her grump. Libby felt like she was missing something, like someone had died.  She couldn’t concentrate and felt her head beginning to throb. The morning dragged and the afternoon meandered. It wasn’t even 2pm yet, yet she felt like she’d been in the office for weeks.

The door to the office opened and Clyde came in with a smile on his face and a big bunch of flowers in his hands.

‘Someone’s a lucky girl,’ the postboy said.

The women in the office sat in anticipation like the finalists of the X Factor waiting to be declared the winner. Libby had hope in her heart but none in her brain, her husband hadn’t given her flowers, ever.

But Clyde took a step towards her and handed her the bouquet. She blushed as she took the flowers and instinctively looked for the card.

‘The journey to work was not the same without you,’ it read.