The Locker Room
He appears to be such a cocky asshole, to undress himself while looking into the mirror. Removing his clothing. Flexing his muscles. After his workout, he'd return the same mirror, reversing his performance. Stripping from his workout attire, flexing and returning to his clothing. So narcissistic. So pretentious.
He isn't watching himself. Flexing his chest and abdomen, his interest doesn't lie with his beautiful reflection. His interest lies with the eyes gazing into his mirror. The stolen glances. Some eyes are staccato, quickly bouncing from his nude body onto the floor. Others, take a long, studying gander. Assuming he's too pre-occupied with himself, they travel from his heels to his backside to the lovely front reflected in the mirror.
The Parking Lot
Those eyes were unforgettable. The way they hungrily roamed his body. The way the hairs on his body stood on end as goosebumps populated his skin. It was amazing to him to see those eyes peering out from a mini van's windshield. The eyes that devoured his naked flesh so exhaustively were aimed affectionately at a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Those eyes were replicated and shined from the small faces of his children. Goosebumps resurfaced.
He isn't watching himself. Flexing his muscles, his interest lies in the stories behind those hungry eyes. The stolen glances. Why do they quickly study only to become purposely distracted? Why do they stare in segments? Why haven't anyone followed through with their curiosity? Stripping from his workout attire, flexing and returning to his clothing. He goes home alone.
|Pioneers by Rick Day|