Monday, March 22, 2004
Kinda sad...
As is my morning habit on weekdays, I was riding the bus on the way to work, this time sitting in a seat near the front, facing the seats on the other side of the bus. A woman stepped on and sat down almost opposite me. An older woman, perhaps in her 60s or youngish-looking 70s, dyed fair hair well-coiffed, full make-up in place, dressed nicely enough. Her face bore an expression that I had seen all too often on women of all ages, but seemed especially prevalent on the faces of well-preserved bus-riding women from her generation.
Sadness and disapproval.
The corners of her mouth were turned down in a permanent frown, deeply etched lines running down the sides of her chin pulled at her skin, furrows created shadowed dips between her eyebrows. Her eyes looked me over - with my reddish hair swept-up in its usual attractively messy updo, pale bare calves and lack of make up - and disapproval shone in those darkly sad eyes.
I wondered if it was my casual demeanor that caused such reproof or just my existence. I wondered what it was that life had thrown at her that would cause such an enduring appearance of antipathy for the world at large. And I wondered if she had always been such a serious person or if she had once been a bright, beautiful, laughing young woman broken by circumstances she felt were beyond her control.
Most of all I hoped that, no matter what life holds in store for me, I would never hold such a deeply ingrained distrust of the world on my face. Or in my heart.
Sadness and disapproval.
The corners of her mouth were turned down in a permanent frown, deeply etched lines running down the sides of her chin pulled at her skin, furrows created shadowed dips between her eyebrows. Her eyes looked me over - with my reddish hair swept-up in its usual attractively messy updo, pale bare calves and lack of make up - and disapproval shone in those darkly sad eyes.
I wondered if it was my casual demeanor that caused such reproof or just my existence. I wondered what it was that life had thrown at her that would cause such an enduring appearance of antipathy for the world at large. And I wondered if she had always been such a serious person or if she had once been a bright, beautiful, laughing young woman broken by circumstances she felt were beyond her control.
Most of all I hoped that, no matter what life holds in store for me, I would never hold such a deeply ingrained distrust of the world on my face. Or in my heart.
Comments:
Post a Comment
Registered!
This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.
