pink moo moo
I was on my way out of the city today, having ignored the advice of a friend. She told me not to leave here until I am in love with this place. If I do, she says, I'll never want to return. Honestly, I was contempating whether or not I really would return, when a lady got on the subway and stood in front of me. She was wearing (for lack of a better term) a pink moo-moo with large yellow and green flowers. Thin whisps of hair were pulled back away from her face and fastened behind her head with a barrette. She looked to be about 55. As she held on to the railing above me, her face was heavy with concern. A couple of times, her black purse, with a large sticker that said WAR with a red line through it, bumped me. She didn't say a thing. Her feverish face was obviously concerned with thoughts other than her purse smacking me in the arm. It made me smile, and I loved her for the reassurance.
posted by d @ 9:39 PM
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