Another Miss

Well. I missed another entry yesterday. I feel only mildly guilty; I enjoyed the concert very much. The music was fun, the company great, and the people watching was amazing! I couldn't hear myself think, I growled at a busboy who was trying to take my sprite, and every time I turned around different people were sitting at the table next door. Some of them were doing interesting things. And through it all, the thundering bass rumble syncopated my heartbeat.

I left my purse with the sketchbook at home and didn't take a camera. I have never had such withdrawal pangs in my entire life. Bikini woman exists only in my head now. The guy with gorgeous long amber hair with the lungs on his t-shirt is already sepia around the edges. I wanted to sing walking back to the car at 1am, but my ears felt funny.

I need to make the occasion to go again. ;>

~

At the restaurant Ann pushed her salad around. Abusing vegetables was more interesting than the conversation. "I thought Ann would be applying to a good woman's college."

The grape tomatos looked like eyes, but there were three of them. "Just because you went to a women's college doesn't mean that Ann wants to."

"I'm thinking of her future. Being a professional bum is not good enough for her." The rings of purple onion held the croûtons fairly well. But the carrots kept escaping.

There went the radish. "Let's leave my job out of this. I think she'd be better off going to a school closer to home the first couple of years."

Ann felt her eyebrows scowling and smoothed them out. Even if they wanted to leap into the fray, they were overplucked for the conflict. Not a hair of harshness left to her. She bit her tongue lying docile in her palate, then twisted her mouth in pain. The salty iron cut past the sweet dressing and gagged her.

"Honey, drink your water and don't choke, ok? Your skin will look terrible if you don't hydrate."

The salad fork clattered against the plate before she could put it down gently. Ann placed her napkin carefully two inches to the left. The cutlery for the other courses glittered at her. "I am going," she picked up her clutch, "to refresh myself."

Their voices nipped each other behind until she rounded the corner. Ann let herself grimace. If she was going to write at all, she'd write both of them out. They'd look good in natural black, drawn thin. The door to the bathroom ate the forceful shove and closed behind her in a tiny click.