Wednesday, June 03, 2009

She sits across from me, exhausted, depleted, undone. It is seven am and she is dressed in a tailored blue suit, her hair a beautiful shade of black, translucent pearls adorns her fragile neck. Something about her exhaustion attracts me. My eyes follow her.

She gets off at Queen, and walks mechanically up the stairs. The station is engulfed with the morning crowds, rushing through, trying to get to their busy lives. She walks as if in a dream, unaware of the rush, slowly, mechanically, one foot and then another, as if to say that the mere act of walking was her valiant attempt at surviving.

7 comments:

Jumbie said...

Perhaps she needs a friend?

Ruthibelle said...

Or perhaps she needs a break.

GC (God's Child) said...

omg you posted

Abeni said...

Sometimes we just have those days

Mad Bull said...

Thank God you are not her. :^)

Glad you're back.

Stunner said...

Maybe she's coming out of a hot apartment like mine!

Ruthibelle said...

lmao - stunenr and the heat... really, it's hilarious to hear how much he hates it!!