Change of Season
Suddenly the end of the semester is here and it's summer--unofficially. Last night sure felt like summer. Eighty-eight degrees outside at 6:00 and it felt hotter inside the yoga studio, even with the fans going. I don't remember ever doing this before, but I had to leave about halfway through class--I started feeling faint and nauseated. I thought, okay, 45 minutes of yoga may be enough for me tonight.
Earlier, on the way to class, there were two young women walking ahead of me, both of them slender and strong and beautiful. The one on the left was carrying flowers wrapped in their paper cone. She had a black and white print dress on, mainly white, made of rayon or some other stretchy material, very soft, I think strapless. As I was walking behind her, I was admiring and puzzling over the the very complicated way the dress seemed to be falling around her hips--there seemed to be some darts that pulled the dress in at the sides and also made it shorter on the sides than in the middle. Then, I realized, oh, it is so hot out that she is doing that thing where you make your dress shorter by tucking a bit of it into the top of your underwear. She wore her dress that way with absolute confidence and grace. She seemed lost in the pleasure of feeling cool on the hot evening, carrying her flowers, smiling to herself a little bit, alone even though she was with her friend because her friend was talking emphatically on the phone while they walked.
This is what her friend was saying on the phone:
"I don't care what happens to that man."
Hmmm, I thought, her boyfriend? I was ready to sympathize with her, indignantly.
"I mean, there's this big oil spill . . . "
Now, I thought, maybe she is talking about our President. I started feeling a little defensive for him.
" . . . and he's going on a cruise with my mother."
Huh?
Earlier, on the way to class, there were two young women walking ahead of me, both of them slender and strong and beautiful. The one on the left was carrying flowers wrapped in their paper cone. She had a black and white print dress on, mainly white, made of rayon or some other stretchy material, very soft, I think strapless. As I was walking behind her, I was admiring and puzzling over the the very complicated way the dress seemed to be falling around her hips--there seemed to be some darts that pulled the dress in at the sides and also made it shorter on the sides than in the middle. Then, I realized, oh, it is so hot out that she is doing that thing where you make your dress shorter by tucking a bit of it into the top of your underwear. She wore her dress that way with absolute confidence and grace. She seemed lost in the pleasure of feeling cool on the hot evening, carrying her flowers, smiling to herself a little bit, alone even though she was with her friend because her friend was talking emphatically on the phone while they walked.
This is what her friend was saying on the phone:
"I don't care what happens to that man."
Hmmm, I thought, her boyfriend? I was ready to sympathize with her, indignantly.
"I mean, there's this big oil spill . . . "
Now, I thought, maybe she is talking about our President. I started feeling a little defensive for him.
" . . . and he's going on a cruise with my mother."
Huh?
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 10:39 PM
2 Comments:
Wow, it's just like watching a sliver of a sitcom on TV, that last part of your post, so visual, and so... interesting ;-).
yeah, it looks like summer's finally here.
Lilian--glad you enjoyed the sliver of life in Brooklyn. And, congrats on your big move. . . . So exciting.
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