Excerpt from “The Crash of a Lash”

Near the entrance a young man stood – a very youthful looking fellow – and stared at Jules across the way. Probably at the ever-blooming red carnation and the curls draping her shoulders. He looked over at Sue too, for a split second, not enough time to see past her glasses. Sue’s lips were painted ruby red like the color of the carnation, with the kind of lipstick that stays on the lips for a whole day. She wore a pale yellow scarf around her neck, probably because of the cold weather, but also to cover what she called crow’s feet on her neck. But rather than commenting on any of this attire, the stranger at her side said, I like your glasses. Sue said nothing and wondered what it was about her glasses there was to like. They were like any other pair of glasses. Yes, the frames had a subtle purple tint, but this was nothing out of the ordinary. She removed them from her face and wiped the lenses with the napkin that had been wrapped around her glass. The young man from the entrance now stood behind, so close she could feel his cool breath on the back of her neck. If her ears were conch shells, this young man at an advantage could lean in, and when he did he would hear erotic phrases, musings of a theorist set to violin music, the echoes of a poet’s address.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: