The Beat

In two split-seconds they gave me two split-lessons I will never forget. It was the minute when it’s both too late and too early. People were making their way out of the club in pairs. She came to me and ordered to take a picture. She got into the pose and gave the sign. People were walking in between us and she grew impatient. Be quick!! She had no qualms about my potential protest. She snatched the phone and expressed disappointment. No good! Take another!! OK, lets live the thrills of speedy life. Snatch, snatch I was quick like fuck. The picture looked good to me based on circumstance. Couldn’t give her Naomi Campbell. But she wanted one. From deep purple sky the thought dawned on me to use her also and I was content with the outcome. She looked again at her phone, pursed lips, stretched back and left. The quickness endured.

The second one was so beautiful the mind was conquered. Beautiful. Any picture would have been a star. Tall. Fit. Long hair. Exquisite. She went slowly and gave a contained hug to the guard. The cruel guy who just finished fighting the crowd of us to keep decent distance from where Travis Scott was dancing Huncho Jack to Heavens was instantly melt. He was taken. She stayed a second in the hug until the sugar took hold of the good guard’s vein, then parted with the worshiper and left leaving him full of light. She was an apparition. She left the air full of swag.

Time is short. Life is busy. The walls of obligations press hard on us. But sometimes I’ll write anyway. At the end of the day you can find it here.

Just because

 

 

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