A Happy Familiarity
I am stopped at an intersection on my way home. The kids are all in the car, and Eli has just announced in a rather pained voice that he needs to use the bathroom (not his words). The light seems to be taking forever, my shoulders are already wound up in knots and I feel the beginnings of a headache. I begin to count deep breaths, interrupting myself at frequent intervals to remind Eli that he needs to wait until we get home. There is a couple crossing the street. They are walking close to one another. From where I am sitting I cannot tell if they are holding hands. Each step they take is in perfect rhythm, and their four legs appear to me as just two. There is a happy familiarity in their movement, and suddenly I realize that I have forgotten to breath for a second or two. I am smiling, even as I feel a wistful pang of loneliness, closed up in glass and metal. The light changes, and the couple is gone. It is several blocks before Eli reminds me there is an urgent reason to hurry home.
A Stranger
She was a young woman with a nose which preceded her at all times. Her entire body may very well have conformed itself early on to this necessity and shaped itself accordingly. It was a large nose, and she had a weak chin and forehead. The effect was slightly overwhelming. She was thin and tall, and as she walked she made the shape of a shallow C. Her shoulders slumped forward while her back caved in a bit, and her legs, almost as if to compensate for the unfortunate shape and position of her nose, were thrust awkwardly forward with each step. Watching her, I was reminded of Roald Dahl's BFG. I wondered if she would be as lively in conversation as the fictional character.
1 comment:
That was wonderful, dear. I thought you were quoting Roald Dahl with that last one. People don't usually have it all that easy, even when they do.
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