Actually it was a punch.
A silence breaking punch as we slowed to a stop at the red light.
I knew why he did it.
I had it coming, considering the circumstances.
Yet I did still wince,
And slowly looked to him;
Sitting patiently in the driver’s seat,
A smug smile on his face,
Focused on the light and road ahead.
I stared at him,
Boring a hole into his head,
Willing him to look at me,
And meet my questioning gaze.
He turned and noticed my expression.
The ‘what was that for’ look I so frequently gave him.
Even though I always knew why.
His grin widened as he pointed down the road.
“Blue one.”