Thursday, January 5, 2012

Classy

I glanced over my book to where you sat. You were snapping gum, perky and assured, and everything I judged "classy."
When they called your name you slipped off your chair like a movie star. Slid a polished hand through your perfect silky hair. You glided past me, heels clicking and smelling like France and tic tacs.

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