Sunday, January 29, 2012
Prefect Man
He looked at me trying hard to comprehend what was going on in my mind. I was looking outside at the slow-moving traffic, couples holding hands, parents talking to their children and a dog wagging its tail at the passing cars. Taking a sip of the hot coffee he cleared his throat to grab my attention. It was almost a Herculean effort for me to shift my gaze towards him. I braced myself for the lecture. He smiled and said, ‘You know what your problem is? Your definition of a perfect man is a poet on a motorcycle.’
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3 comments:
I think that's what all of us women hope for, but most don't get. LOL
He read your face like a book!! you shouldn't have let him leave :P
Chance of a life-time or better let-it--pass moment,only the writer can tell.Ships passing in the night?
Interesting what might have been moments.We men also experience these fleeting encounters,and think of what might have been.
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