Saturday, June 10, 2017

My Face

Going to the gym.

I walk to the supermarket. Many faces pass that'll  acknowledge a chance encounter. Sometimes a passing word is spoken or a momentary pause. Conversations happen now and then.
My groceries are packed in a bag that I carry across my shoulder. It's easier that way. My  hands are  free. The walk is about the same as carrying  a child. A dutiful workout.
A younger women and I made eye contact, exchanged smiles and said hello to each other. She had left the gym that's across the street from the supermarket. I followed up by saying, "This is my work out," referring to the bag across my shoulder. She expanded the moment in a mutual manner of light conversation by saying that she had a good workout in the gym. I told her I was crossing over York at Amond and then headed up to Belgrade St. She was crossing at Almond St too but continuing on Almond to get home. I asked her "May I walk with you?"
She said ok. I then introduced myself by name. She told me her's during a friendly handshake.  Our affect keep the mood. This lead to her telling about her exercise routine and the noticeable different in appearance and feeling good in general.
She then asked about the weight of my bag. I handed it to her to get a feel. It weighed more than she expected and comfortable with. She strapped it on her shoulder as quick as she could take it off. A smile of quiet feign exasperation covered her face while she handed the bag back to me.

She told me how the gym would provide a rounded work out. I agreed but said that it wouldn't really do anything for my face. We parted after we crossed the street.

words by Roman Blazic

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