Tarin heard the truck before he reached the corner, a low rattle beneath the music in his ears.
It was a short flatbed, loaded with yellow-and-orange striped lane markers. Empty sockets along its edges showed where wooden rails could be fitted.
The truck slowed to a crawl. A man stood on the bed, leaning against the back of the cab.
By the time Tarin drew level, he was broadside to the truck.
The man turned his head. Their eyes met.
Then he turned his whole body toward the other side of the flatbed, giving Tarin his back.
He’s turning away.
His knees bent. His shoulders followed in a small, easy movement that flowed through his body as he straightened.
Oh. He’s dancing.
Tarin listened to the drums in his own ears. The man’s movement had fallen into the music so naturally that, for a moment, the two of them seemed to be following the same rhythm.
He looked up, trying to see the man’s ears. Did he have headphones?
WE&P by: EZorrillaMc&Co.
