This is the first of a few retro posts. One of the scrawlings of Morris from the re discovered, notebooks. I hope you enjoy.
As they sat, eyes fixed on their
matching his & hers ipod covers, ear buds dangling into their
laps, they glanced up occasionally, briefly taking in snatches of the
outside and of each other.
Brow furrowed, his eyes rarely left
his music player, turned digital organizer. Not looking up as he sips
from his coffee cup, his work is his only aim.
Legs crossed, foot waving, her
glances are frequent and erratic, looking for interest, and to be
interesting. She is amused to see the twenty something near the
window scratching away at his pad. She wonders what he's writing
about, She smiles to herself, as she wonders if he knows how much
there is to learn, that he can't possibly know, yet.
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