Rossi (deathpixie) wrote in nano_wrimo,

17. Tuesday Evening, Dundas West

Her dress is red, a splash of colour against the drab tile. A pair of high heeled shoes dangle from her hand by their straps; her feet are bare. Her blonde hair is piled atop her head, some strands escaping and her mouth is painted scarlet. She seems to be in a hurry and I wonder why. Is she running from or running to?

His hair flops over his glasses as he reads. He's a student, wool jacket over threadbare jeans. The book is on Shinto Meditation and it absorbs him fully. I wonder what he's looking for in those pages: the way to inner peace? A perspective on another way of life? Or perhaps just easily-impressed arts students?

The strains of an accordion greet me as I exit the stairs. The busier is a scruffy middle aged man wearing a dark t-shirt and khakis. The song is familiar, yet not, and then I realize he's playing Oasis. Rock in strange clothes. I drop some change in his hat and move on. The strains of Wonderwall follow me up the stairs.

It's just another Tuesday.
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