Fate is Choice
Inna and I were waiting by the bus stop for the 320 to get home from the city. Across from us were standing two elderly ladies also waiting for the 320 I presumed, knowing the route passes through Clayfield, the "retirement suburb". The one on the left looked very glamourous, with bright red lipstick, matching statement earrings, snow white hair that was puffed and clipped neatly behind. She wore an oversized poncho-styled dress/shirt that flowed with every movement and flared black pants underneath. I think she could have been a dancer in the 1960's as she walked with such grace and high posture. The lady on the right also held a certain glamour, but was not as ostentatious as the former. Her lipstick was of a maroon tint and her greying hair was tied in a clean low bun. She wore a light brown business suit, and her physique was petite and fit, perhaps five years the first lady's junior. I imagined her once an accountant for some big city firm, who maybe loathed her job so much that she decided to return as a housewife for her two young children. I think she loved her husband very much. She still wears her ring.
"Who would you prefer to be?" I whispered.
"I prefer the one of the left."
"Yeah? I prefer the right."
I believe it's that easy. Yes. For I am counting one and a half months left!*
*Will tell you at a later date.
Your writing is so beautiful. Takes me right to where your footsteps are.
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