Tuesday, November 16, 2010

The History of Love in Afghanistan 2

Amidst the aimlessness, Elaine appeared so definitely: jet black hair and deep blue eyes. Already an assured woman, her walk was confident and purposeful. I approached, unsure of myself, still anything but definite, somewhere between a boy and a man; hair neither dark nor fair, eyes somewhere between green and brown. Some Grade Ones were watching us now. Unlike the Grade Twos, they had some awareness of the real world.

"Will you go out with me?"

I noticed something move fast to my right: the blackbird had just caught a worm.

Elaine's beautiful lips started to part.

To be contd.

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In Bruges