Three Times One Hundred Words Of Woman|
“Let’s see,” said the judge, “anorexia class zero, no plastic nose or breast or butt, hmmm... liposuction?... I see, neither, just birth stretch marks...” he scratched his head. “Anything... else you may want to show to the panel?”
You showed him your scrub eroded palms, your flowers planting dirt encrusted fingernails, your shopping with the kids sun burns, sleepless red eyes, no-label gown, feminist pamphlets... You did not stand a chance.
He inspected the others, young, firm, shining, he reached his decision.
“Woman,” he said, “beautiful.”
You did not wear your crown, you donated it to an animal shelter organization.
“If you insist...” she smiled, passing in front of me through the door I opened. “If you insist...” she smiled, sitting on the chair I pulled out for her and sticking in her hair the flower I bought for her outside the restaurant. “If you insist...” she winked allowing me to lead the dance, to undress her, to paint her body the colors of caress and kiss and passion...
“Don’t insist...” she said as I bent to carry her suitcase. She picked it up and carried it to the car. “Some things I do myself.”
So beautiful, feminine. So woman.
We drove in silence through the sleeping streets. “I am taking you to a very special place, not far away,” she said about half an hour ago, and she was still driving. “Are we there yet?” I asked one additional half hour later, enjoying the drive, curious. “Patience,” she admonished, intent on avoiding the potholes. Patience I had infinite, as long as she was there...
She parked in the absolute darkness, mid of nowhere, I looked around, a bit scared... “Here?...”
“Get out of the car,” she advised, out of breath. “Look up.” She almost cried.
I gasped... my goodness, the billion blinking lights on the pitch blank canvas. I watched her for a moment, I swear I could see the glow in her face, the reflections in her tears, the glint in her smile.
“And you thought you could catch all this beauty in just one hundred words? Very presuming of you.”
“OK, what about two hundred and an apology?”
“Apology accepted,” she snuggled into me, her lips a big round O like the Orion her big round eyes were glued to. I looked up at her, my own sky.
“A kid,” I thought, “a woman absolute. So beautiful.”