Yesterday I was leaving the store and while buckling my seat belt, a young woman, maybe 20 or so, walked in front of the car. She was pushing a baby stroller. She was tall and trim with beautiful flawless skin and wavy black hair piled carelessly on top of her head. Tendrils fell on her bare neck.


She was wearing a short red sundress made of some kind of soft knit jersey like fabric. She was an exquisite person; she could have been a famous actress or model anywhere on earth. But here she was in Lucedale Mississippi pushing a baby stroller. I hope she isn't married to some mullet haired, beer swilling rube who treats her badly.



I envied her beauty and grace, and in some parallel universe, that's who I hope I am--transformed, transfigured, metamorphed into what I know I should look like--like that girl in the red dress I saw for only a few seconds.
susil