Read Carnage: Short Story for Free Online Page B

easy sophistication that peeked through no matter what. He wasn’t what you’d call spectacularly handsome, but he was hard to find fault with in a way that Alma liked. He could best be described by the word pleasant .
    But would he like her?
    She dispensed with a guy who seemed to love the rooftop pigeons he kept more than anything else. Next came an elderly man who was obviously drunk. He left before his ten minutes were up, after Alma had declined suggestions encompassing half the Kama Sutra .
    Then the pleasant-looking guy took a seat at Alma’s table.
    “Hi, I’m Corey,” he said. Then he smiled. “It’s my real name, actually. Who are you, really?”
    “Alma Fenster.” God! She felt herself blush. “I wouldn’t make that one up.”
    He seemed to consider the name. “I could learn to like it,” he said.
    She laughed. Some lies you appreciate. And some truths. “And if it was your own name?”
    He gave her a grin that melted her. “Honestly,” he said, “I’d change it to Corey.” He leaned closer. “Have I insulted you?”
    “No. You’ve honored me with the truth.”
    “Ah! A woman with common sense.”
    “I’d like to think so.”
    “I don’t need ten minutes. I knew before I sat down I wanted to walk out of here with you.”
    Alma was flustered. She had to fight the instinct to jump up and run for the door. She could yell that she’d forgotten to turn off the oven—something like that. She didn’t make friends easily, much less lovers.
    Her voice was halting. “Maybe we should simply exchange phone numbers, then think about this when we get home.”
    “I’ve already thought about it,” he said.
    Alma considered herself to be an average-looking woman, a blonde about ten pounds overweight with a weak chin.
    Of course, lots of men liked a weak chin. Something sexy about the overbite, or so she’d heard.
    “Let’s go get a cup of coffee,” he said. “So we can talk more than—”
    The ten minute chime interrupted him.
    He stood up and crooked his elbow, offering his arm. “Let’s go, Alma,” he said through that damned smile that sent her into a tizzy.
    Tizzy. Her mother used to use that word a lot.
    Her mother also had told her that the brass ring didn’t come around very often. Corey looked like the brass ring.
    Alma gripped her purse and stood up. “There’s a Starbuck’s on the corner,” she said.
    His smile widened. “On every corner.”
    Alma thought that was reasonably funny, even when you stopped to think about it and realized it was an old joke and almost true.
    She could feel the eyes of other women on her as she and Corey made their way to the door. She was glad now that she’d gotten her hair done at Tina’s this morning, thinking that maybe she’d have something to tell Tina when she saw her next week.
     
     
    “I was surprised to find someone like you in a place like that,” he said, as they walked through the hot night toward Starbuck’s.
    “How so?”
    “A looker like you . . . you know the line. In this case, it happens to be accurate. Seriously, what were you doing there?”
    They walked awhile as she thought. “It’s this city,” she said. “New York.”
    “What is?
    “The problem. It’s so heartless here sometimes. And it’s true that being alone in a crowded place can be excruciatingly lonely. Especially if you’re like me.”
    “Which is how?”
    “I find it difficult to make friends.”
    He patted her shoulder. “You made one tonight. I’ll prove it by rescuing you and spiriting you out of the city to somewhere interesting.”
    Spiriting me. At least this guy has a vocabulary.
    “How about somewhere quiet?” she said. “There’s always something making noise here, from jackhammers to horns honking. Even dogs barking.”
    He smiled. “I’ll take you somewhere quiet. Not far, but in another state. We can read and eat bonbons.”
    “That sounds pretty good,” she said, and moved closer to him.

13
    Three days later a