Dulled, But Never Enough

We turned away, ashamed we’d witnessed a moment clearly not meant for anyone other than the two involved. Our cheeks reddened with embarrassment. One of us made a joke. It wasn’t funny and made us feel worse. The people whose moment we invaded remained unaware of the intrusion. Lost in each other, maybe.

We still talk about them, even if it’s been more than ten years. Still feel the sharp guilt inside our middles when we do. The train pulled in and one of us got on while the other stayed on the platform. I forget which.

It doesn’t matter.

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