like the right to wear it, that right she had earned.

like she had every right to move.

no swagger. just knowledge.

her hair was white. all white. not gray, not silver. white.

she had age.

but her face, her face... it was as if time was water that had flowed over her face, smoothing it, rounding it out, softening the lines that should've been there.

there was this other lady. younger. much younger. she wore hopeful clothes.

the ones that ask for observance, ask for your attention.

part of her was floundering.

and for her, ah for her time was more of what it is for all of us: sand filled wind. carving into her. finding that chink and grabbing hold for all its worth.

during lunch today i debated whether or not i should hunt out jen at her work.

i couldnt find a decent reason not to.

truthfully, the only reason i wouldntve (yes. wouldntve. pronounced wouldntuv.) was for friday. im still smarting over friday.

see, i thought i had clarified, with her and someone else, i was going to meet them, directly after work, and spend the evening with em all, seeing as how i havent really had time with them since tuesday.

i havent hung up on anyone... since may, perhaps.

but, yeah, directly after work i went to where they had been. nope, not there. no note. no message on my machine.

but that wouldve been a pissy reason to have not gone seen jen, when i know how much her work bores her and such. so i went.

and she wasnt there.

so yeah.

a great thing happened today, involving a two year old singing.

this was so great, you see, it filled me with... bam. yeah, it filled me with bam.

and i wanted to share this bam so badly that i couldnt contain it. i shared it with the first friend i talked to.

and they dismissed it.

"ick" "ick?" "two year olds are gross." "no they're not." "yes they are." "no." "whatever."

and that hurt like a sonofabitch.

perhaps, later, i wont be so pissy. perhaps, later, ill write something to make you laugh.

ill see what i can pull off. and out.