Caucasian male, late 20s, thick stubble, long sideburns and short dark hair with a titch too much product. Wearing a zipped up fleece under a pin-striped suit jacket with pressed jeans and white sneakers. A grey computer bag rests between your feet. You have Fred Flintstone fingers and the softest, fuzziest earlobes I've ever seen.
The Progress Paradox:How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse, Gregg Easterbrook (Random House)
Page 154:Any free market system inevitably will have unequal results because individuals have unequal talents, exert unequal effort and experience unequal luck.
The alarm clock goes off an hour before you need to rise. She vaults from the bed to start the coffee. Please, won't you at least try to sleep a little longer? She'll wake you in her special way. You toss a bit, eventually up and in the shower. She combs her hair into a ponytail and puts on her scrubs. Brushing her teeth absentmindedly you agree that tonight you'll try that new Korean barbecue joint that just opened up down the road. She flashes the mirror a grin, takes a swig of your coffee and you hear the distinct click of the apartment door closing and locking. The water beads down your back and you wonder if you'll ever see your hairy hobbit toes again. A rushed click and she's back in the apartment. "Sorry, babe. My mind is everywhere." She pulls back the shower curtain and leans in, the front of her greens getting wet. She takes your lobe in her mouth and gives it The Nibble. "Love you."
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Spadina streetcar, knees touching
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2 comments:
This one was fantastic -- very vivid. Having just gone through a really painful break-up, it's little stories like this that still tug at the heart strings.
And to think I just saw The Fountain last night, yeesh.
I imagine you'd have quite the entry if we were on the same car!
Aw yah, the heart strings. Plucked when you least expect it. Man, I hear that. It was L.A. Story for me. :)
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