The Changeroom Dress

Suburban beach
Midday
Midweek
Early autumn

From a bench opposite the showers
And their changerooms
I glimpse red and black fabric
On the floor
Under a closed door

A forgotten towel, I tell myself
And head for the water’s gentle waves

Back from the short dip
Sitting on the bench
Head down
Drying one foot
I hear the changeroom door
Open and close

A man walks right
Tucking a shirt in
Eyes to the footpath

Drying my other foot
Head down again
The changeroom door
Opens and closes once more

A woman walks left
Keys in one hand
Sandals in the other
Eyes to the carpark
The autumn breeze
Ruffles ever so slightly
The black and red fabric
Of her changeroom dress.

2 comments

  1. Hello Vin. I think you needed a prefix or a suffix for the gentleman.
    He seemed to get off Scott free.

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