Amputee

Every time Dee is on the MRT train, she allows her eyes to drift around, hoping to find someone whom she might attract. After all, she is of marriageable age. As Shakespeare would have written, if he were that crude, women her age are grandmothers already.

Surely, 40 isn't that old. One would grant her that. But men have weirder tastes than she thought. Never one to give up, she went on the MRT today at City Hall and began letting her eyes drift.

Today, she seems to be in luck. The guy standing beside her kept stealing glances at her.

It was a rather short guy, slim build. The checked shirt he was in made him look a little odd. The red and blue checks did not suit him. He was fair and seemed to be swimming in his seemingly oversized shirt.

Dee was amazed as she looked at him, standing so close to her, at the middle of the train car. Though disappointed by her singular audience, she looked at him. He looked straight back, the eyes showing some form of visible discomfort.

Dee blinked at him and he blinked back. His face was a little less happy now. Dee thought she should smile at him. But perhaps not. It might make her seem a loose woman, smiling so easily at other men.

He, in contrast, was in immense discomfort. The train carriage was packed and he had been pushed right against Dee. And for some reason, her 3 inch heel plunged right into the front of his shoe without her realising and she is leaning her weight on the sole, since it is more elevated than the other one. By the poor guy's leg that is.

He tried to look down but thought against it. He did not want the woman to think he was some lascivious guy. But a few glances later, he could see the source of his discomfort - she had thunder thighs, column calves (that would put a Victorian column to shame) and her pudgy legs were stuffed in a pair of open front 3 inch sandals. Her feet were distorted to hold her weight and never sat squarely in the sole of the sandals.

And he realised she was hugging the vertical holding pole in the middle of the train car. She looked an incredible picture of brute strength and stability as her legs and her vice-like hugging of the pole afforded her a three point equilibrium.

As the train turned in the tracks, Dee moved her body to counter the various centrifugal and centripetal forces. She noticed that the man had beads of sweat on his forehead. The train was very packed and he was looking at her as though some part of him was going to burst through his worn fabric.

She felt adored. That's how a goddess should feel. Someone who looks up to her and sweats for her and makes her feel that she is all he has in his eyes.

He tried to wriggle his feet but the heel seemed to have crushed into some toes. He tried to smile at her but she seemed to look right through him.

"He's smiling at me." Dee felt exhilarated. Yet she told herself that as a lady, she should at least let him do it twice more before she should take fancy at him.

The next time their eyes locked at the next station, the man opened his mouth and Dee licked her lips to wet them. He felt he needed to say something but the train was still very packed and he didn't think he could move at all, even if she did.

In a moment of desperation, he felt he had to do it. The hell he had to do it. "Excuse me, Miss?" He ventured.

"Yes, can!" Dee answered as soon as he finished.

"Er..."

"What?"

"Can you...?"

"Yes, can. Can!" Dee was getting happier. She moved herself, shoving her bulk at the passengers around her as she turned to face the man.

In so doing, Dee moved her legs and the man said, "Thank you."

He looked down and saw blood oozing out of the hole at the front of his shoe.