7/30/08

a window opens up in a house across the street. the curtains wake up, pulling and twirling wildly from a relentless gust.

i’m counting my footsteps in 8-counts–branded into the brain of this ‘retired’ ballerina–as i make my way up that asshole of a hill that never lets me reach the top without sweating half my body weight. And i think–i sure do take a lot of steps for a person who doesn’t know where she’s going.

the wind lifts my hair and tosses it angrily, before settling and then gently dropping it over one shoulder. and i notice i’m smiling like the mona lisa at it’s wild and unpredictable nature. i’m one of those girls who doesn’t like surprises, but secretly does.

and i’ll take it as it comes, with a spoon full of sugar and spice.