Saturday, March 15, 2003

TRANSIT STORIES: CHAPTER (NEXT) She

TRANSIT STORIES: CHAPTER (NEXT)

She sat down next to me, beautiful, dark, soaked from the rain.  For several minutes she was pensive, motionless.  Then, in a burst of decisive motion, she took out a small cell phone and turned it on, stared at it.  More slowly, she took out a small slip of torn paper.  On it, written in a woman’s hand, was a man’s name and phone number.  She stared at it, and at the phone.  Her thumb hovered over the keypad.  Slowly she opened the leather cover for the telephone and stuffed the slip of paper into it.  It crumpled.  She put the phone away again and sat very still, like a muse of forgotten arts.