The small gray car pulled into the slot opposite mine,
\na tall, well-coiffed blonde woman emerged from the driver’s side,
\nheaded for the wool store in front of her car, stopped,
\nreturned to the passenger side, and spoke briefly through
\nthe slot provided by a partially lowered window, shook her head,
\nand crossed to the store door and disappeared inside.
\nAlmost immediately, slender fingers emerged through the slot
\nholding a newly lit cigarette, which they tapped rapidly,
\nthen withdrew. The hand emerged, sometimes almost to the wrist,
\nsometimes just the cigarette and the tips of the fingers,
\ntoo frequently for utility, enough to make me think there must be
\nsome agitation, some compulsion behind the constant tapping.
\nThis fingers where female, by their shape and the nail polish,
\nand made me wonder if she was a friend of the driver, a sister,
\nlover, or even someone ill or disabled, whom the driver was helping out.
\nThe fact that she was tapping the ashes outside the car
\nsuggested the driver was a non-smoker, perhaps would not approve,
\nwould reprimand her when she returned with her purchase.
\nI pictured her knee twitching spasmodically; I sensed her sighing,
\nwondering what she would do next, how she would survive.
\nI am glad I don’t need to tap a cigarette to pass each dread moment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I was sitting in a parking lot when I saw this, this afternoon. (#952) Continue reading