Blue Dress

I sat next to a Beautiful girl in the shuttle today. Her dress was a riotous blue, her eye shadow even more so. Her bracelet, also blue looked like an extension of her dress. The dress seemed like an extension of her, as if that’s how she’d come in the stork’s box. Pretty girl, complete with blue bangle and blue dress and blue eyeshadow. That must’ve  been one hell of a shock for her parents.

She was a glorious size ten, with the dimpled smile of a sassy nymph. Full set of teeth too. Dentist’s dream just. In fact, if she were a nymph, she’d probably be the bookish one, interning at the dentist’s office. She’d also have impeccable taste in literature. If she were a nymph.

Her eyes. She had large large large eyes that fell on my book (Jazz. Toni Morrison) the moment she got in. She said hello and do you have this seat booked for somebody and how’re you and she was smiling the whole time. My God. I had a test in maybe 20 minutes, so I didn’t put my book down to talk to her. Stupid me.

Also, I don’t talk to people in shuttles.

Then the time came for me to get out of the vehicle, my faculty was right there. She smiled at me and said, ‘You’re getting off here? Haha. Looks like you’re going to be the last person to do so.’ Because there were so many people alighting at that stop.  Chic could give any of these slurring drawling galoots on radio a run for their money. Ten times!

All the things she said sound ordinary now, but I tell you. Coming from her then? Sigh*

Just thinking about this girl Inspires me to be unashamedly silly, man. I mean all afternoon I’ve been babbling gently to myself, I’ve been attacked by the occasional giggling fit and the inclination to constantly apply more lipstick and put on my prettiest face.

I’m even convinced that she’s some sort of lucky charm. Or like, an angel or a figment of my imagination. Something! Her name? I don’t even know her name.

These are all signs of CLUSH, that infection that I haven’t suffered from for a while now. I’m in two spoonfuls of crush, five mugfuls of lust and a teeny weeny sprinkling of love with this girl.

Now because I’ve always, since I began ‘making’ my friends, let my pheromone receptors do the pointing out for me, its possible that my body has identified for me my next friend( Factoring in the fact that she’s so nice, so soul-huggingly nice, so blog-post-inducingly, intoxicatingly, overwhelmingly pleasant).

Nkmt. I have work to do. This isn’t healthy.

I hope hope hope that I see her tomorrow.

This is not her.

About Miz. Kyrte

I do everything I want to do, with excellence.

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