Panther Prattle

Inattentive Manifestation Lends Well to Materialization

An impromptu outing with Kiera, hmm..., skips up and down my thought pattern like a needle on scratched vinyl.

I wonder what this is about, slams into both temples after I shut the car door.

A small dog lunges toward the digitized meter after it drones appreciation of my card swipe.

Its purple-haired owner mutters a feeble, "Sorry," after it shifts its attention, and begins humping my ankle with gusto.

She yells, "Cheeto, no," pulls its leash until it releases a yelp, then scoops the amorous mutt into her tattoo-laden arms.

I take a beat to adjust the strap of my purse, then take a spot behind a group of power walkers waiting on the crosswalk signal.

I stare ahead, first at a giant bubble floating and bouncing over various pedestrians, then at a man dressed in full biker gear and carrying dry cleaning.

Our eyes lock, and I watch when he tilts his head and clenches until his jawline appears chiseled out of granite.

Feeling exposed, almost raw, I quickly flip my sunglasses off my head and over my eyes.

He flashes a smile too bright for natural dentition.

I shift my glance to a delivery guy frantically mopping his brow with a red terry towel.

En masse, the power walkers flank and advance into, then cross the broad street.

I linger until the neon-ambulating lady flashes the number 10 implying a need to look left, and hustle to the opposite side.

We step off the curve and into the fading crosswalk in unison.

As we pass one another, his upper forearm grazes my left shoulder.

Time pauses, traffic passes and a bout of temporary insanity results in my diamond-studded ears hearing, "Damn... you are more beautiful outside of your dream."