He’s got lashes that women would kill for. And a purple shirt with a picture of a giraffe on it – when I happened to make a remark about the randomness of the giraffe print, he said it was a selfie :) (to explain the joke [and kill it in the process], he is a 6-footer).
From where I sit and work on my files, I can see just the top of his spike… like the little hump of a whale. He stole my stole one day and wrapped it around his lanky frame because the office AC was set too low – desert person that he is, the sun that bakes us to tandoor during our break times make him happy, happy as a cat that discovered a brand new spot of sunshine. He also sends his cute little girlfriend just-like-that flowers. From this office to that. The only times I’m forced to think of him as a grown-up (he IS 23 after all) is when he is lecturing me on saving money.
And also when he is cooking up serious business ideas – the optimism blinds me. And that’s when I wonder when I became such a jaded old lady, then I go looking under my mattresses for the girl who thought anything was possible.
