1/27/2012

He was eating a slice of pizza alone.  An older red-haired woman sat across from him.  When he stood up to refill his glass, she stood next to him to refill her glass.  He left and walked through the cold tundra down the street.  Arriving at a bus stop, another red-haired woman (albeit one with manufactured orange hair) was waiting there.

“How long until the next bus?”  He asked.
“The twenty one?”  She said.
“Yeah.”
“Five minutes.”

He began walking again, figuring that he could beat the bus another block within five minutes.  Two blocks later, however, the bus had yet to show.  Another two blocks, and he was already at his destination.  Inside the store, he perused the gift cards: valentines, mostly, he skipped across the weddings, new babies, and congratulations cards.  At a certain point, he realized he was totally against this commercialization of love and romance… and wondered if she was of the same frame of mind.  How could he profess his love for her without succumbing to this bastard called consumerism?  Was it acceptable to show ones love for another without a physical representation?  Could love be simply an embrace?  A smile?  An intimate yet public show of affection?  Was attraction yet another easily formulated tagline?  How could he express himself to her through his own feelings?

As he looked up, he met eyes with another red-haired woman: she of black-rimmed glasses, freckles, pale skin, blue eyes, and longing; the radio was singing, “I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

@1 month ago with 3 notes