Tuesday, March 22, 2005

December:

Like most of them -- all of them -- she is a stranger to me.

A pale cream sweater, thickly knitted, peeked from under a close-fitting coat of orange and brown tweed. Corduroy trousers; mossy grey sneakers of that ubiquitous brand no-name. A silver ring on a finger of either hand; mittens, home-knotted, of some indistinguishable shade of brown-dull.  

She has a light, quietly pretty face -- glowing, flawless, framed by soft, chestnut curls. Behind her silver square glasses is a dreamy, guileless look.

I fumble my way into a seat, graceless as always; when I look up, breathless, out of nowhere, she smiles at me. It is gentle, warm, and deliberate. At once I feel absolved ... for being gauche, clumsy, awkward, plain, stupid, everything.

I am smitten.

We both disembark at Osgoode -- she pulls on a fleece-lined hunter's cap, tugging it by its enormous, ridiculous earflaps with both hands -- but I lose her at the top of the stairs.

posted at 10:12:06 pm

Sinja
April 2, 2005   08:16 PM PST
 
Oh yeah, I remember her. I banged her.
Alyred
March 24, 2005   12:17 PM PST
 
You should have tagged her with a Gloria-locator. Then you could have tracked her all through the city from your Gloriamobile's in-dash tracking unit.
Sinister Ninja
March 23, 2005   05:40 AM PST
 
Aw. Beautiful entry.
Jude
March 22, 2005   10:33 PM PST
 
Wonderful piece, Gloria...really

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Glo'ri'a'na, noun:
1. An alternative form of "Gloria."
2. As "Americana" defines itself as artefacts of American culture, "Gloriana" consists of the artefacts of my culture.


   



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