Two Men And A Restroom

     Sipe flushed the urinal.  Quinn almost certain Sipe hadn’t produced any stream at all, but could be the guy just had the angles all figured out, could pee silent.

     Sipe washed his hands.  Pumped the action on the paper towel dispenser and wiped his hands dry.  He tossed the towels into the trash.  The tin flap waggling on the hinge the only noise in the world while Sipe looked up and into Quinn’s eyes.  Sipe raised his right hand.  Quinn flinched away from the hand.  Wrong thing to do, but it was done.
     “Hey.  No.  It’s all right.  It’s nothing.”  Sipe lowered his hand.  “I just wanted to touch.  It pays off, all the work you put into that curly, pretty hair.  You hit the salon once a week or you do it on your own?”

     “You’re a weird little fucker, you know that?”

     Sipe like some robot never issued protocols that lead to the formation of a smile.  The machine knew to blink.  The pupils to dilate.  Pores to widen. 

     “I ought to pat you down,” said Quinn. 

     “We already did that.  Mr. Lowry did that for everyone.”

     “You were in here alone.”

     “For five seconds.  Maybe six.”

     “Yeah.  Alone is alone.”

     “Because you lollygagged.”

     “Still.”

     “You’re right,” said Sipe.  “You know your stuff.  Hours ago, I hid a shotgun under the urinal cake.”

The Lipless Gods.  Available at Smashwords and Amazon.