January 2010
7 posts
Lately, there’s something I’ve begun to understand - that whenever you touch me, it’s almost like a weakened being that desperately clings to an outstretched hand. That’s right. Why didn’t I realize this until now?
“I am an observer who sees such minute little details of life. ”
The screeching brakes of the bus, the swish of the opening doors and the shuffle of feet boarding. I take a seat and smile at the view. An old couple holding hands. They tread slowly down the aisle to find seats together and when they do, he pulls out a pale coloured handkerchief and slowly wipes a seat down for his wife. He lets her take a seat first. She places her head of white curls on his...
It’s true. I think in short concise paragraphs.
“The delicate umbrella shaped lining expands contracts and very gently pushes...”
“Um, sorry,” she mumbled. “My hormones are all over the place.” He stepped closer to her. Her hair smelled like fresh cut roses and he fought the urge to embrace her. “Do you want me to put them back in place for you?”
