Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Real diamond

At the post office near Union Station. It's about 8 PM and the line is long. This is the only post office in town which stays open until midnight.
A teenager is here with her mom (?). They're about the same height, both wearing bleached jeans and short jackets. The teenager is smiling a braced smile. She plays with a ring she is wearing on her right hand. It's a ring mounted with what seems to be a forest of diamonds. She puts her hand next to the glass door just behind us and she slides the ring on it, focusing on her task with the concentration of someone taking a test. The stones leave a mark on the glass. "Maybe they're real" she says to her mom. Smiling.

The guy at the front of the line. A very stern and serious looking, lanky black guy dressed with a real nice suit. He must be at least 50 or 60. He suddenly takes support on the counters on both sides and raises his body above ground, flexing it without any particular sign of effort, playing like a kid. He lowers himself down after less than a minute in the air. It looked beautiful. The real diamond of the evening.

"A diamond is a chunk of coal that made good under pressure".


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