There was something about watching the boy in front of her scrap down food that was almost endearing, if one could ignore the juice trickling down his chin.
She sighed, reached for a Napkin. The boy froze, deer in headlights, eyes for the first time locking with hers.
They were a deep, beautiful brown. Who could have hurt this boy?
“Napkin. For your chin,” she said eloquently, turning back to her own food, watching out of the corner of her eye.
Slowly, not looking away from her for a moment, he grabbed the napkin by one grease-soaked corner, folding it into his hand with
she wore a silk scarf every day. some days she wore blue, others red, always matching her coat to the very shade. she never told anyone what the scarf was for. she was not cold. it was not winter. it was quirky and unsettling at the same time.
scarface, barfight, long day, hard night. scarf race, dark light, callback, early flight. dayglow, mango, feather boa, scarf choke. nice joke. flat coke.
iz
The scarf is translucent, silk covering my great grandma’s white curls, in that little kerchief babushka style, I lean against her in the flower chair, tracing the diamond veins on her hands, admiring the crystals in her glasses.
There was something about watching the boy in front of her scrap down food that was almost endearing, if one could ignore the juice trickling down his chin.
She sighed, reached for a Napkin. The boy froze, deer in headlights, eyes for the first time locking with hers.
They were a deep, beautiful brown. Who could have hurt this boy?
“Napkin. For your chin,” she said eloquently, turning back to her own food, watching out of the corner of her eye.
Slowly, not looking away from her for a moment, he grabbed the napkin by one grease-soaked corner, folding it into his hand with
she wore a silk scarf every day. some days she wore blue, others red, always matching her coat to the very shade. she never told anyone what the scarf was for. she was not cold. it was not winter. it was quirky and unsettling at the same time.
scarface, barfight, long day, hard night. scarf race, dark light, callback, early flight. dayglow, mango, feather boa, scarf choke. nice joke. flat coke.
The scarf is translucent, silk covering my great grandma’s white curls, in that little kerchief babushka style, I lean against her in the flower chair, tracing the diamond veins on her hands, admiring the crystals in her glasses.