Saturday, December 3, 2011


He parallel parks like a boy playing with Lego and each of his calculated maneuvers puts us to sleep.  He is as stimulating to watch as the women sitting next to him, pointing her chin into her chest and fogging up passenger’s side window with plunged and lunged breaths.  He has made a 24 point turn at this point.  Though, I might have lost count. 
The unreliable narrator is me, pretending to know what the other person is thinking. 
I watch, and I admire the moment like a brandish fawn in a field of giants.  His car gives him away. Its sheen, blue metallic and spinning stationary hubcaps are guises of success.  He holds up traffic on this busy urban strip, though no one honks they just stare in disbelief; he has conquered more than just the moment, but made a fact.  Not everyone looks the part when polished.

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