Thursday - Missed oportunity
May. 19th, 2005 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreDriving through the stoplight this morning, I noticed that the Ferris wheel was still stopped, while the old riders got off and the new riders got on. The Carney was smoking a cigarette while the loading and unloading took place, one hand on the door to the car and the other on the lever of the ride, the cigarette clenched between his teeth. The car stopped at 11:30 last night, and he was just getting ready to close the door and restart the ride.
I scanned the crowd of riders making their way toward the exit and I did catch a glimpse of her. I barely recognized her - she was a bit taller than I remember, her hair a flaming red and a beau on each arm. She was dressed to go out in finery from the late 20's, her lips painted red and her hips swaying. She was a Louisiana Baptist girl gone bad, a pillar of small town decadence and a bona-fide bon vivant (but still an avid church goer - where better to meet quality men and to be admired in your Sunday best?). You could tell by the way she walked that she loved to dance, and that she never sat one out.
She wanted to see my infant son before she got off the ride, and I let her down. The trip was planned for the first of June. I waited too late. I watched her wander off, whispering in the ear of first one beau and then the other, then laughing. Then, unexpectedly, she turned her head back toward me. "I'm sorry," I mouthed. She winked and puckered her lips into a kiss, then disappeared around the bend.
As usual, no one else noticed. No one knows that the Ferris Wheel is there, or that the Angel of Death looks like a carney (and that he smokes). The light changed and I drove on.
I've got to find another route to work. That stop light is freaking me out.
I scanned the crowd of riders making their way toward the exit and I did catch a glimpse of her. I barely recognized her - she was a bit taller than I remember, her hair a flaming red and a beau on each arm. She was dressed to go out in finery from the late 20's, her lips painted red and her hips swaying. She was a Louisiana Baptist girl gone bad, a pillar of small town decadence and a bona-fide bon vivant (but still an avid church goer - where better to meet quality men and to be admired in your Sunday best?). You could tell by the way she walked that she loved to dance, and that she never sat one out.
She wanted to see my infant son before she got off the ride, and I let her down. The trip was planned for the first of June. I waited too late. I watched her wander off, whispering in the ear of first one beau and then the other, then laughing. Then, unexpectedly, she turned her head back toward me. "I'm sorry," I mouthed. She winked and puckered her lips into a kiss, then disappeared around the bend.
As usual, no one else noticed. No one knows that the Ferris Wheel is there, or that the Angel of Death looks like a carney (and that he smokes). The light changed and I drove on.
I've got to find another route to work. That stop light is freaking me out.
