He waits in the car. It’s midnight. The road is lit vaguely by an orange glow from two street lamps that stand like giraffes on guard, grazing at the stars.
He’s waited for hours. A packet of peanuts sit on the dashboard; a couple of loose ones lie together, rocking gently from the odd car that rumbles by. Empty crisp packets trail by his feet. He wraps his knuckles on the ledge of the car door and absently fingers the door lock, pushing the knob in, pulling the knob out. He stares at her bedroom window and continues to wait. Finally he sees her walking with a man who has his arm around her; the man’s dark grey coat half covers the two of them as they stumble together, a little drunk perhaps. The man is about her age, thirty five, or maybe a little older. They giggle and she opens the front door.
He imagines them together; opening a bottle of wine and passing wine between their mouths as they kiss, unbuttoning her blouse, cupping her breast.
He pulls the door knob up. He looks at the time on the dashboard. It’s late. Another half an hour passes. Her bedroom light comes on and he sees the two of them enter.
He pats his pocket. Keys jangle. He opens the car door, and walks the short distance to her front door, and opens it with his keys, and closes his front door behind him. He walks up the stairs and opens the bedroom door.

He turns the key in the ignition and sets the gas. The two stray peanuts fall off the dashboard as he drives off with a trace of a grin on his face.

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