Princesses and Toads
Yesterday when I arrived outside the entrance to the building that I work in, I saw two lovers on a park bench. She was seated to his right with her legs straddled over him as he held her waist. Her head was nestled into his collar and he was saying what appeared to be soothing words of comfort and praise. She responded with soft strokes of her hand to the hair on the back of his head. The prompted his chin to raise and his eyes to peer upward as he kissed her forehead. She then swung her feet off and they had one alst embrace and she shuffled into the building just in front of me. She straightened her blouse and pants and smoother out the wrinkles of her light small jacket. She cocked her head back and entered the elevator as the most confident woman in the lobby. Even though, from what I saw outside the couple were of poor taste and meager belongings she felt like a princess for the time being. The head that she had touched minutes age was greasy and his face pointy with dabs of facial hair that were set apart by lines too many for a man of his late twenties. She was a plump girl that when entering the elevator, entered alone, because she was not going up towards the corporate offices, but instead she was entered down to the shipping and receiving center. I saw her put on her dirty smock just as the doors closed.
This morning I arrived again at roughly the same time and at roughly the same spot when I saw the couple again. This time they were fighting. They were shaking their heads and making bold and almost violent hand gestures that articulated an acute problem with the other. I was unable to catch any words but I looked at them sitting postured like two old maids. The woman had her hands crossed around her chubby mid-section. Her hands seemingly rested on her potbelly. The man waved what few strands of long hair he had back over his scalp. He did it repeatedly while speaking in a quick, sharp, and piercing manner. His words bounced off the woman like acorns on to the sidewalk. I did not see the woman enter the building this time. I hope, for some strange reason, that when she enters that elevator, she still gets a warm leftover feeling from her princess moment not less than 24 hour before.
