You could tell summer was going to be over soon. It was only six o’clock and the sun was geting low in the sky.
She took a drag of the cigarette. It was half-smoked when she started it.
“Don’t you like comic books?” he asked.
“I like the ones where the women are wearing heels,” she said.
He put his hand on her upper thigh. Intimate, but needy. She brushed it off as if it were a tiresome fly that had lost its way around a plate of french fries.
He sighed and fidgeted with the ring on his finger.