/lit/ - Literature

John's face was always gloomy. When someone asked him a question, he would answer monosyllabically or pretend to be deaf. He'd never look into one's eyes, and his sweaty, limp hand felt like a sponge when he had to extend it to greet a new co-worker. His life was divided between his home and the office. He spent the weekends sitting on the old couch in front of the television, reading the late newspapers and drinking beer.
No one liked John except Martha, who thought he was a true gentleman. Finally, one day, he ended up inviting her to dinner. Marta blushed when she received the invitation, her heart pounding as she couldn't help but let out a shy smile from her lips. She swallowed and agreed day and time.

...


Two hours before the meeting, Marta took a long bath with scented salts and applied a hydrating mask on her face. She brushed her hair for a long time, but in the end decided to make a relaxed bun. She painted her eyes, stretched her lashes and intensified her lips with red lipstick, dressing in a tight skirt and a slightly transparent silk blouse that she had saved for a special occasion.
Inside the cab, on the way to the restaurant, Marta tried to straighten a strand of hair that kept peeling off her bun, running her fingers across the skirt whilst looking intermittently at her makeup mirror as to touch up the lipstick.
Suddenly, a block to the restaurant, a thought crossed her mind. What if John had only invited her to talk about work issues? As she got out of the cab, Marta used a shop window as a makeshift mirror only to ponder whether her skirt was too tight, or her shirt too transparent.

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