karma
I left the National Portrait Gallery and hopped onto the Northern Line at Charing Cross, where I found myself surrounded by a proper troupe of older Indian gentlemen, who really seemed to have turned up in this one spot independently of one another.
As the train pulled into the Embankment, an old woman, tiny in stature and of kind face, pushed through them to get to the door. The train lurched, she stumbled, tripped over the feet of one of the sedentary gents, and fell forward; for one who lacks real coordination, I was surprised that my reflex movement to catch her met with success, seizing her left arm in a steady sailor's grip with my right, and sweeping my left up beneath her back in order to take her weight. The movement - and she reciprocated my grip like she'd anticipated it - was fluid, and for the briefest instant we were, freeze frame, the unlikely finish to some undanced tango.
I set her upright, she smoothed her jacket and, not looking to me for even a moment, took her leave of the carriage with the vaguest suggestion of a smile on her face. It was like a dignified, quiet thank you between friends. I felt that she expected me to be there, to catch her, and that made me feel useful. And warm.
As the train, in turn, pulled into Waterloo, I stepped out and, wouldn't you know, tripped. I would have fallen but for the saving grip of a middle-aged, handsome-of-the-moment, Jason Patric type who was waiting to board the train. Embarrassed, I met his amused grin with a blushing expession of my appreciation and walked off up the platform. It seems that my good turn was met with another.
The train was leaving as I started to turn off toward the exit; a glance back saw him still standing there... without train, looking my way. I chose not to notice, feeling, if anything, a hint of fear, and made away.
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Was he handsome enough to fall in love with? In which case maybe you should make a habit of tripping in such a manner.
I keep slipping all day long. I never get saved by anyone. You are LUCKY!
Was he creepily handsome or handsomely creepy?
(Totally unrelated.)
What's with the Arabic smilies (as one of the picture options in the top right-hand corner of your blog)? ba' and ta', namely. And funky disco versions, to boot!
They're cool!
I should really ask if they're real, or if ta', at least, is made up, as it has such an Aciiiiiiidddd!!!!!! vibe to it.
They are real letters, I simply attacked them in photoshop and out came what you see - if you want to have a look at the alphabet in its entirety, click on the following image search, which has a number of differently formatted versions for you to browse.
The local edition is the trippiest.
My reading of Arabic is poor, before you ask - I can write my name and not much else. Very Kaspar Hauser.
What, with the Google search for the Arabic, and then the reference to Kaspar Hauser that needed to be looked up, it's as if you're working as an evangelist for Google on the side! 'Wooden Horse (Caspar Hauser's Song)' is one of my favourites by Suzanne Vega, by the way - and now I know (sort of) who it's about!