A passing vision
I was just coming back on my bike from dropping Tin at the American Can when I saw this big blue Buick convertible go by with a man and woman; they were smoking. I watched the woman light her cigarette with a Zippo. The air was breezy and the sky was clear. It was the gloaming – that perfect pitch of light when magic happens.
For just one minute, I wanted to be the girl – the one lighting her cigarette and sprinkling the air with laughter. Leaning over to get a kiss from the hot driver whose breath hopefully smelled of whiskey.
Some moments are made for such visions.
May 20th, 2015 at 8:07 pm
OK, I’m in. You got me. I can almost taste the cigarette. And the whiskey. Off to roll myself a joint. What else is there to do?
Signed: Dreamer
May 22nd, 2015 at 1:44 pm
Wish I was there, Mudd.