There she sits, completely focussed on her work. It’s not all bad though, as a lucky side effect, she allows me to gaze upon her beauty without the worry of our eyes meeting and the awkward moment to follow. Would there be an awkward moment? Maybe I could just smile at her and everything would be okay. Maybe she’d even smile back, sincerely, I mean; they always smile back. Oh, don’t think me a pervert! I sit and stare; I long to do more, but find myself unable. Prufrockian, that’s what they call people like me.
”The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by TS Elliot, could very well have been written about me… Click to read more