Electric Love

Flash Fiction

He woke up to the sensation of fingers running through his curly hair and the smell of fresh Cuban coffee. The sun already crept in through the window with its warm rays hitting his back. He looked up at her face. She was naked, wearing nothing but his sweatshirt. She whispered something in his ear, her long messy hair draped over his head as she kissed his cheek.

Joe sat up, looked at her, and reached for her face. His hand met a teardrop. She sat there smiling, trying her best to keep the sadness at bay. She failed.

She curled into Joe as he held her. “It’s okay,” he said feeling her sadness drip on his bare chest.

“We’ve got the whole morning left.”

“I don’t want to stop this,” Andrea wiped her eyes and brushed her hair back. “I know it needs to end, but I don’t want it to.”

Joe lifted her head up. “We can’t keep doing this. You know the law.”

Andrea pushed him away. She sighed. Joe wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “Like I said, we still have the whole morning. Let’s not waste it.”

They looked at each other and embraced. Joe felt a rush again, a hot shot through his body. Her lips were sweet and set his mouth ablaze. Her scent pushed him over the edge again.

It would be the last time he’d see her. The affair would end and Joe would go back to his old life.

---

Joe sat there in the little seat of the commuter rail that stunk of sweat, piss, and paranoia. His tie felt like a noose wrapped tightly. Faces were entranced by the light of their smartphones and no one made eye contact on the train or anywhere else. Not a word was said. Each man occupied his own seat. The sound of the train humming along on schedule was cold and mechanical. Joe looked at his watch a second time. Another neverending day.

In the office, no one said anything. Joe sat at his desk alone, staring at the monstrous desktop screen, punching keys in a robotic fashion. His lunch tray arrived at noon sharp - tomato soup and a little pack of crackers. When he finished, he was allowed his fifteen-minute stretch in his cubicle. After his stretch, he sat back down for his five-minute meditation at his screen. The sound of waves crashing on a rocky beach came from the speakers. The computer instructed him to close his eyes and breathe slowly, but Joe didn't bother. All he could think about was Andrea. The thought of her soft brown eyes sent a shockwave through his heart. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes.

He thought of the secret trips to the beach just outside the city limits. Their bare feet in the water, the cool air hitting their faces, and the sunshine kissing their bodies. The sound of waves crashing from the speakers synced with his memories. He remembered how warm he felt around her, how his heart would drum in his chest every time he was close to her. The feeling of being alive, happy, and carefree. She was a flame burning inside of him.

The alarm on his desktop went off, the screen returned to a spreadsheet, and the warm memory faded. Joe resumed his work in his lonely, gray cube.

---

Five o’clock came and Joe was back on the train in his isolated compartment away from everyone. He looked out the window. His mind returned to Andrea again. He couldn’t shake his thoughts of her. Why would he? She was his only connection. The last person that made him feel something, anything. The cold voice on the train spoke: Smithfield. Last call for Smithfield. Joe sighed and got up from his seat making his way off the train.

Joe shuffled his way up the metal staircase. Two flights and he was on his floor. Not a soul was seen. Down the gray corridor, he stopped at number 11. Scanning his hand, the metal door slid open, and he entered the apartment.

“Hello. Darling,” a toneless voice registered. Joe dropped his bag and hung up his coat.

He plopped on the stiff couch and took off his shoes. He stared blankly at the white wall.

“How. Was. Your. Day?” the voice chilled Joe's ear. The sound of a small, motorized engine whined from the kitchen.

“Fine, honey,” he replied. “Just fine.”

Out from the kitchen came cold steel shaped in a slender, feminine form. Faceless and blue. Mechanical arms carried in a plate with a lifeless tuna sandwich. Joe took the plate from the tall bot, his wife by law. He couldn't look at her. At it.

The robotic voice spoke again reciting canned and prerecorded phrases. Joe paid no attention to his “spouse.” He retreated to his thoughts of his love, his joy, his last connection to humanity. Andrea.

Humans could not be seen together anymore. The powers that be made every effort to keep ordinary people isolated. Friendships died. Romance was snuffed out. Human touch was illegal and Joe was an outlaw, a criminal of the worst kind. He loved in secret and hid away in the only place the law had no jurisdiction. Not yet anyway.

“Alexa,” Joe muttered. “Play Ocean Waves for deep sleep.”

The bot obliged and the sounds of waves crashing against the beach echoed through his tiny apartment.

Joe laid on the couch, his head resting against the cushion, and he was away. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Thoughts came racing, of a soft hand holding his, of long brunette hair brushing against the wind, and a set of perfect lips against his.

Soon, he was asleep.