jingle all the way
He held my hand and it never came off.
Alone. I was sitting at the tail-end of an fx van. It was practical and necessary to take the ortigas commuter stand. Lest the parking crawl along the shopping strip which would toil half the spending time. Just a breezy walk a few blocks apart to the basement ramp. And no more than a few loots to carry once abound.
The back door shuddered. It was he. Caught in the same distress as I probably was. But seemed ready for the taking with the target he got. As I pored only to the windowwatch and unoticed his crotch.
He took the space on my empty side. Not the expanse of the parallel line in front. As my hand was lying on his now paid slot. He did not complain. Instead, even rested his warm hand to break the solitary mark.
I sensed the invitation.
And it only took a head gesture to his direction. I didn't realize it meant a form of consent. As he went on moving my hand. And took it to between his mistletoe to a trail where the magic wand wafts to a barrel gun.
The trip took no more than three jingle bell songs. But his jingle, he made sure it was all the way.