I would shuffle through Taos with my head down and friends would ask, "Back with Cynthia?"; Whistling and skipping, "Break up with Cynthia?"
The reason they knew to guess correctly slowly became understandable: I was, um, bewitched. (Some will know what that pause means.)
Nearly 5'10", a thick mane of wavy blond hair, and blue eyes (an Aryan, um, dream). I h**e feet in a way but hers were sculpted, a marble fineness. Really incredible. Her face was pure Texas. She played the piano and violin, was child of 12 years of boarding schools. Her father owned a mini-empire of publications. She was getting an art degree at UNM. And she had the greatest laugh I have ever heard (which I will fumble as being like the scent of sage in spring after a light rain; embracing). That she even made time to talk to me made me a cloying puppy.
Despite our--what's the word?--bumpy or roller-coaster driven 3 year relationship (it was more crazy and harder than that), her profound anger over almost anything cowed me. She h**ed that she spent 12 years in boarding school. She h**ed she was forced to play instruments. She h**ed that her father was a drunk and pissing away the family fortune. It will take too many pages to continue. Someone with all she had in advantage, beauty, and talent being so angry and alienated was incomprehensible. And now she's dead. But such a force of nature that she was should not die; that was also incomprehensible to me.
My mother had a friend Geraldine Furlong that even back then in the 60s I thought was far too silly to die. What profit or triumph to Death? Yet she did. It makes me consider that I will not escape as well, as cute and funny and wise and kind as I am or can be at times. No exceptions, I guess...except in the Bible.
rumitoid wrote:
The reason they knew to guess correctly slowly became understandable: I was, um, bewitched. (Some will know what that pause means.)
Nearly 5'10", a thick mane of wavy blond hair, and blue eyes (an Aryan, um, dream). I h**e feet in a way but hers were sculpted, a marble fineness. Really incredible. Her face was pure Texas. She played the piano and violin, was child of 12 years of boarding schools. Her father owned a mini-empire of publications. She was getting an art degree at UNM. And she had the greatest laugh I have ever heard (which I will fumble as being like the scent of sage in spring after a light rain; embracing). That she even made time to talk to me made me a cloying puppy.
Despite our--what's the word?--bumpy or roller-coaster driven 3 year relationship (it was more crazy and harder than that), her profound anger over almost anything cowed me. She h**ed that she spent 12 years in boarding school. She h**ed she was forced to play instruments. She h**ed that her father was a drunk and pissing away the family fortune. It will take too many pages to continue. Someone with all she had in advantage, beauty, and talent being so angry and alienated was incomprehensible. And now she's dead. But such a force of nature that she was should not die; that was also incomprehensible to me.
My mother had a friend Geraldine Furlong that even back then in the 60s I thought was far too silly to die. What profit or triumph to Death? Yet she did. It makes me consider that I will not escape as well, as cute and funny and wise and kind as I am or can be at times. No exceptions, I guess...except in the Bible.
The reason they knew to guess correctly slowly bec... (
show quote)
I see you got your hands on a good batch.
Canuckus Deploracus wrote:
I used to have a girlfriend who was six feet tall in her bare feet. She used to wear high heeled boots so she would be taller than me.
rumitoid wrote:
The reason they knew to guess correctly slowly became understandable: I was, um, bewitched. (Some will know what that pause means.)
Nearly 5'10", a thick mane of wavy blond hair, and blue eyes (an Aryan, um, dream). I h**e feet in a way but hers were sculpted, a marble fineness. Really incredible. Her face was pure Texas. She played the piano and violin, was child of 12 years of boarding schools. Her father owned a mini-empire of publications. She was getting an art degree at UNM. And she had the greatest laugh I have ever heard (which I will fumble as being like the scent of sage in spring after a light rain; embracing). That she even made time to talk to me made me a cloying puppy.
Despite our--what's the word?--bumpy or roller-coaster driven 3 year relationship (it was more crazy and harder than that), her profound anger over almost anything cowed me. She h**ed that she spent 12 years in boarding school. She h**ed she was forced to play instruments. She h**ed that her father was a drunk and pissing away the family fortune. It will take too many pages to continue. Someone with all she had in advantage, beauty, and talent being so angry and alienated was incomprehensible. And now she's dead. But such a force of nature that she was should not die; that was also incomprehensible to me.
My mother had a friend Geraldine Furlong that even back then in the 60s I thought was far too silly to die. What profit or triumph to Death? Yet she did. It makes me consider that I will not escape as well, as cute and funny and wise and kind as I am or can be at times. No exceptions, I guess...except in the Bible.
The reason they knew to guess correctly slowly bec... (
show quote)
Taos attracts weirdos. Must be the hum. Good thing I lived up in Arroyo Hondo.
Smedley_buzk**l wrote:
I used to have a girlfriend who was six feet tall in her bare feet. She used to wear high heeled boots so she would be taller than me.
I correct myself...
5'10 for a man is no one's dream
Nicely done Smedley
Smedley_buzk**l wrote:
Taos attracts weirdos. Must be the hum. Good thing I lived up in Arroyo Hondo.
Really? I lived in El Prado. And maybe it was the Hum. It was like a Pasteur for Black Sheep. A Dark Shepard's Call?
rumitoid wrote:
Really? I lived in El Prado. And maybe it was the Hum. It was like a Pasteur for Black Sheep. A Dark Shepard's Call?
Never heard it, and I lived there a long time. (There, and out 64 past Shady Grove.)
Smedley_buzk**l wrote:
Never heard it, and I lived there a long time. (There, and out 64 past Shady Grove.)
It was five miles north of Taos, a little past North Diner.
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