Chrisonomicon

Wednesday, April 30, 2003

I'm walking out of my apartment this morning when I spot a young woman in a white nightgown curbing her garbage halfway down the block, the morning breeze picking up the billowy fabric of her gown and pulling it in every direction across her naked body. As I continue walking to my car, my attention is suddenly transferred to a dapper young man exiting his apartment between me and the woman. He spots her and slows, and I admire the way the clean lines of his suit block off his musculature, imagine his aftershave on the moisture-laden breeze and study the shadows cast on his face by the sunrise. Smirking, I watch as he stops completely to observe the woman down the street, moving my gaze only momentarily to realize she's glancing in my direction as she pauses while walking back to her apartment. She smiles at me and the handsome neighbor turns to look in my direction, a quizzical look on his face. Pulling out of the lot, I think to myself, "Everyday, something different," and then change that to: "No, everyday, the same thing. The same thing that's been happening for ages."