Saturday, August 25, 2007

interlude on a sunny afternoon

This afternoon she smiles knowingly. You see? she teases I can be nice - and nice she is. Golden sunlight stream down between the heavy grey buildings and into her so called famous lane-ways. I walk past those graffitied to perfection in all the right places and those that are dolled up with rows of cafe tables - in order to flirt with a man I'm slightly afraid of. I don't agree with flirting to get what you want, but times are tough and I'm a little desperate.

I arrive at my destination with a bounce still in my step - fresh from a sidewalk packed with sightseers and locals enjoying the surprisingly warm afternoon. I find him in the back of the shop leaning against a wall. He notices me too - how could he not? I have ready to be bought written across my forehead. He by contrast is wearing a hint of sleaze and a gold earring in his ear. He has don't mess with me written across his chest. He could break me without trying I think - but I pretty much think that about all people I meet, though in this case this one I'm guessing actually could.

Against my own will I wonder what it would be like to reach up kiss his full lips - something I wonder about almost all men I come across. I imagine the contrasting tangle of black and white we would create and for a moment I let the daydream creep up along my neck and up to my cheeks. He catches the look and smiles knowingly. This is too easy for him - I smile without any hint of tease, a little embarrassed, and step back. I'm not that girl. I don't know why I thought I could be anything but sincere, even in an exchange that would benefit me.

Back and forth the exchange goes until it seems we both win - or at least both get what we want. I prepare to leave and he looks down at my chest and winks as I step onto the pavement and into the sunlight. My mouth gapes in surprise and I stifle a laugh. Okay, he wins.

I am like a fawn on gangly legs with my newly acquired toy. The old one fit my hand like a glove, and this one is too big, too heavy, too difficult. We argue at each pass - disagreeing with how things should be run. I have the vision but it the technology to make it happen - we haven't learned to work together yet - and I'm just not used to sharing the lead with any dance partner, let alone one that can't talk back. I dip my paintbrush in the light and hand it over - doubtful - this process will take some getting used to.

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