Fumble

Immediately after the L5P Halloween parade exists an untouchable moment, it’s like a wrinkle in time…a crease.  There’s a split second (that lasts about an hour) where it doesn’t matter that I’m an asshole and it’s okay to talk to me.

There is / was a moment today and it blinked and pissed itself away, right before I saw it, right before I watched her leave.

She was my age.  Her stories were as weird as mine. There was baggage as clusterly fucked as mine…she was clutch though and I couldn't match that.  She seemed to give a shit on top of, and sported an inquisitive pulse, with a tick-tock of nonsense chaser.  She wore a smoking hot pink wig, had a walk away ass and a desire to accelerate my day to day.

She said her name was Yvonne.  All I had to say was something, anything....I managed next to nothing.  All I should've said was yes.

I fumbled...

She walked away.  Oh well, maybe next time.