(no subject)
I saw an older woman on the front steps of Phillips Hall, smoking from one of
She seemed very sad, maybe she was crying, and looked as though she had lost something. Not a frantic, purse-searching sort of loss; rather, the resigned knowledge that she would never find 'it' again. Maybe it was her car keys, but maybe it was something more. I wanted to ask, but didn't know how.
I'm not projecting my personal insights onto a 60ish-year old woman; to the contrary, I'm quite content. And feel as though I've found something. It's called Nutella. I found it on my desk.
She seemed very sad, maybe she was crying, and looked as though she had lost something. Not a frantic, purse-searching sort of loss; rather, the resigned knowledge that she would never find 'it' again. Maybe it was her car keys, but maybe it was something more. I wanted to ask, but didn't know how.
I'm not projecting my personal insights onto a 60ish-year old woman; to the contrary, I'm quite content. And feel as though I've found something. It's called Nutella. I found it on my desk.