17 August, 2005

Last Chance...

...hello, hello, hello, hello....

He looks up from fiddling with the hose on his tanker. His eyes gleam under fluffy eyebrows that match a shock of white hair, his mouth crooks beneath a fringe of white moustache. I hit him with the you're-the-most-beautiful-person-I've-seen-today smile when he makes eye contact. He returns it, full force, flashing and twinkling in surprise.


"Hey, Gurrrl," from the passenger window of a car in the left turn lane. I check him out, and giggle.

"Whatchoo laughin' at? Huh?"

Been a long time since I've been legitimately categorized as 'girl'.

"Not from where I'm sittin'. Guuuuuuuuurllllll...." he grins.

I grin. The light changes.


Rain sparkles the skin of my shoulders, cheeks, arms. The Questing Sniff prances smartly. On a worn sofa upon the add-on porch of a battered townhouse in a sketchy neighborhood are two young men.

Good morning.

Punkass #1:


Punkass #2:

"Lordy, good MAWnin'. And you are GOOD this MAWnin'. Mmm, hmm."

Don't be rude.

They're fifteen.

I have to draw the line somewhere.

(Smells Like Teen Spirit; Nirvana)


Robert said...

No.... don't discontinue. Please. Although the style of your posts does make it a challenge to comment on. Most of your posts make me go "WOW!" inside, and leave me speechless. Or moist.

And it's hard to comment when one is speechless and moist...

Cybele said...

Okay, thanks for the WOW and the moist, I love it, Robert, as you know, but this is ridiculous. I didn't expect a chat room, but come on.