Woman in her early 60s. Alone and in a blue, polyester dress with lines that are borderline institutional. Not quite a house coat. Maybe a hospital worker. She's headed somewhere on foot but it's not important because nobody notices but me. All the other drivers staring straight at the road ahead but her loneliness catches my eye. She doesn't look up. She doesn't look at the homes she passes and the symbols of other peoples' dreams. She just walks. In a pair of those big, white leather shoes with the orthopedic soles and cotton shoelaces. Walking alone with her thoughts and recollections of her history. Hair in an insignificant style, just hanging long and kind of frizzy and in that one glimpse I see the possibility of what could be. If I let go too soon to the seeds of my dreams I, too, could be walking in that blue polyester dress with the trinkets of my youth. But I hold tight to the steering wheel, as tight as I grip my dreams and I know I will get to where I want to go in due time.
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Sarah from The Delicious Life has a great post about what men really want. The little gem ends up being about food (which I love to drool read over) but it starts with a spot-on scenario that I think I may have recently lived. I'm sure some of you will enjoy it, too.
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