storytime

approach.

heavy steps of those big shoes can be heard over the soft jazz. we are seated by windows reaching floor to ceiling with only a little lip to keep the people inside in, and the outside out. they approach, shoes hitting hard against the concrete sidewalk, two inch black sandals leading to long legs, matching black dresses.

thin straps.

not quite too much makeup with hair wrapped gently but securely with ends twisting up and out, or a simple pony tail, brown hair, straight, pulled back and smoothed down to a black elastic.

confrontation.

hearing feet and looking up, catching two eyes, lashes all, staring down the street. moon reflecting on a still wet sidewalk from the evening's cooling rain. head turns, looks in, through the wall that does not exist. eyes catching for a moment a glimmer of the moonlight in her

blink.

and a smile, close to a smirk and a slow toss of her hair wispy ends falling back from her face as she turns to her companion feet still falling hard on the sidewalk echoing down the empty night street as she laughs.

pass.

and i am caught holding my breath and staring out into the moonlit street, lights casting shadows in the night and i breathe out and in and smell her, and listen to her voice carry back, her shoes echoing through the open wall of windows reaching from floor to ceiling.

exhale.


talk to me | take it from the top
once upon a time | old school stories
what | who | more