The Writers' Circle

This is the start of a story called WHY?

Sarah poured her cereal into the bowl and carefully closed the lid and slid it back onto the shelf. Closing the cupboard she picked up her spoon and walked to the refrigerator.
This was a careful operation she had preformed almost every day, putting the bowl down she pulled open the fridge door, reaching in to grab the milk bottle she used her foot to stop the door closing by itself, opening the milk she poured until it was just under the line of the cereal then quickly replaced the lid and shut the door.
She quickly lifted the spoon and started to eat, still stood in the kitchen.
For Sarah there was nothing worse than soggy cereal and warm milk, anything beyond a few minutes out and she considered it warm, as she ate the milk dribbled down her chin and collected there until she wiped it with her hand.
	The clock told her it was 05:30 and already it felt warm, the fan in her bedroom oscillated slowly as it tried to circulate the warm air around the stuffy room.
She hadn't slept well in days; the heat waves in New York could be terrible if you didn't have the money for proper air conditioning. She finished her breakfast and put the bowl in the sink with last night's pots and walked to the bathroom. Dropping her dressing gown to the floor she looked at herself in the mirror as she stood naked before it.
She turned left lifting her breast with her left hand raising her right up and then alternated as she moved to the right.
No Bingo wings and she still had a nice bum; she wiggled it and laughed at herself for being stupid. At thirty she had managed to maintain her body to a high standard and she was proud of her waist. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders and she brushed it from her eyes, she showered, washing the dried sweat of the night away, as she washed her hair she wished she had gone on holiday with her friend Donna.
Two weeks in Cuba had sounded wonderful, and Donna has so wanted her to come with her, but money had been tight so she had sadly had to decline. It would be another eight days before she returned, eight more days of sweaty nights and boring days in work. She wrapped her hair in a towel and rubbed herself dry with another, dropping it on the laundry basket as she left. She slipped on her underwear before sitting on her unmade bed. Bending her head she vigorously rubbed her hair dry, she could imagine the beautiful beaches she had seen in the holiday brochure, almost smell the salt in the air as the crisp blue sea lapped at the shore.
She cursed herself for not trying harder to find the money, but with so many bills to pay as it was she knew in her heart it was the right choice to have made.
She adjusted the back of her knickers as she stood and they flicked with a slap as she let them go again.
She pulled her white blouse round her shoulders and fastened it half way up; the pressure of the tight material over her boobs made her cleavage all the more visible.
She slinked her way into her short skirt and fastened it at the side.
She stopped to admire her reflection, her wet hair falling loosely behind her.
"Damn I look good" she blew a kiss to herself in the mirror before turning and sitting down to brush her hair.
Turning on the radio she ran her brush down her hair as the DJ finished the weather report for the day before playing another song.
At an expected 87 degrees it was going to be another scorching day.
Hair up she decided and started to brush it into a ponytail at the back, twisting a black scrunchy into place she pulled on her hair to tighten it, she bent t slip her black high heeled shoes on before picking up her jacket and heading for the door.
She completed a last quick check to ensure everything was off before picking up her handbag and opening the door.
The corridor outside her flat was like an oven, even thought he windows at either end sat open there wasn't enough of a breeze to make any difference.
She could see the lift starting to close and ran for it, slipping her hand into the gap to stop it just in time.
Her Neighbour Mr Keller smiled at her.
"Almost missed it" he said as he started at her chest.
"My eyes are up here" she reminded him.
At sixty seven he was a sweet man, but he did get carried away by the sight of girls. His wife had died when she was forty and he had never re married, though he had admitted to her about a number of relationships with younger women.
She was convinces it was all a lie, any excuse to make him feel younger and ogle the ladies.
"Sorry, I was just admiring your necklace" he smiled.
"I'm not wearing one" she replied
"Sorry, my eyes aren't what they used to be. I have to get really close to see well." He smirked as he lent forward
"Not a chance" she smiled, "Nice try though".
"We do what we do" he shrugged.
The lift reached the ground floor and the door opened,
"After you my dear" he gestured.
"You only want to see my backside" she said as she walked out
"Like I've said before, your only as young as you feel" he tried to reach out to touch her as she passed but she was ready and gently slapped his hand away.
"Don't touch what you can't afford" she laughed.
"You have a nice day dear" he shouted as she opened the door and walked out onto the sidewalk.
The heat reflected from the paved footpath and she took her sunglasses from her bag. Even at this early hour people filled the streets, she could hear a police car siren in the distance, she stopped and listened to it but it was travelling away from her, slipping her glasses onto her nose she started to walk to the bus stop.
As she passed the window of a coffee shop she found herself checking out her reflection, a waiter inside stopped cleaning the tables and watched her go.
With rhythmically long strides she walked, a slight breeze cooling her legs as her heels clicked on the sidewalk.
The bus stop wasn't far and she reached it still feeling fresh, hopefully the same would apply when she got off.
Two other people stood at the stop as she arrived; at least confirming that it had not passed already.
She looked down the street to check for the bus before she went for the paper.
The stand was only fifty feet away and she had a clear line of sight all the way.
The headlines where all the same, 'Corruption, Murder or Sport' she sometimes thought that Murder and corruption had become a sport in the City, with a number of organisations being at the top.
The city sweated and the fat cats got rich, the same companies that sold winter boots and umbrellas had their fingers in the after sun and sunglasses markets too.
Whatever the weather they made money, she picked up a Hollywood magazine and paid the seller, he was young and rugged looking. As he passed her the change she smiled at him
"Thank you" she purred, fluttering her eyes at him as she twisted and walked back to the bus, happy in the knowledge that he was watching her. She stopped and pretended to pick up a quarter from the sidewalk, legs straight she turned her head to see him watching.
He was busy talking to an old man, not even aware of her efforts to tease him. She stood up indignantly and walked the last few yards to the stop. 
The bus ride was exactly what she expected; the heat doubled as she sat down in the metal shell, choosing the seat without the gum stuck to it. A young boy sat two seats in front of her, looking over his mothers shoulder as she held him. He was stared at her as though he was trying to figure out who she was; she gave a small wave to him and smiled. He continued to look at her oblivious to the fact she was trying to be nice. 
She felt conscious of herself, was he looking because something was wrong with her, was that why the newspaper man hadn't watched her leave. She moved her fingers over her face as he stared, brushing at the side of her lips in case cereal had stayed there after breakfast, her hair was still in the Ponytail and there where no loose strands. She removed her mirror to check her makeup, but the Red Lipstick was perfect, her eye shadow brought out the beauty of her deep brown eyes.
She looked behind her in case he was looking at someone else but the rear of the bus was empty, paranoia started to set in as he continued to look at her, she double checked everything again just to be sure, there must have been something though, something she missed.
His mother reached up and pressed the button to stop the bus at the next stop, as she stood his head turned and he continued to start straight in front of him.
Relief flooded her and she almost laughed as she realised he was blind.
She felt silly, all those worry about nothing.
	She stepped off the bus and walked the two hundred metres to her place of work, pushing open the door she smiled at Frank as he sat in the security booth and shook her hair, knowing the sun shone behind her. He stopped to watch as she purposefully walked to the water dispenser and let the water flow into open mouth, she turned and wiped a drop from her lip before sucking her finger dry.
She pressed the button for the lift and slowly tensed her bottom as she waited of it to arrive, stepping in she pressed the button for the fifth floor and smiled at her reflection in the mirrors on the walls as the doors slide shut.
	Work was generally boring but it paid for her to live in the city with enough spare to party at night, she thought back to the sugar daddy who she had met last night and how she had made him wine and dine her in the hope of the evening ending up back at his hotel. She had spent less than ten dollars in total but had managed to eat sushi and drink Grey Goose at '15 East' all night and still manage to sneak out when he went to the toilet. 
That was her rule; you could look but not touch.