Windows to one's...
As she breathed
in the familiar air of the building, a wave of nostalgia passed over her.
Walking through the concourse confidently, she felt as if she had come
home again. She descended the steps slowly, savoring the feeling of her
black mary janes hitting the concrete. Her exhilaration welled up inside
of her, and she took a deep breath.
Leaning over
the railing, a shiver ran through her body as her skin touched the cold
metal bars. Arranging herself in a casual yet watchful position, she focused
her attention on the men behind the plexiglass. She scanned the players,
looking for her number.
That one has
a two--but no, he's 24, with the C.
Could that
be him? No, that's 21...
Do I dare hope?
Oh yes it's him!
She locked
her sights on the man wearing the 22 sweater as he worked the puck to the
goal. The only other thing in her universe was the song "No Diggity"
playing over the PA. He drew his stick back, and slammed the puck forcefully
at the glass in front of her. She smiled a secretive little smile, and
breathed a sigh of contentment. As the player skated in front of her, she
caught his eyes. They were the wrong eyes.
She tensed
her body, a slight frown coming to her lips. The not-player, still holding
her gaze, glanced up over her head. Before she could react, she felt arms
go around her waist. She turned her head, her eyes meeting yet another
pair of eyes. They were the right eyes.
For those of you who know me, the 5 million
dollar question is: guess whose eyes those were!
Yep...you got it! But anyway, those of you who don't know me obviously
think now that I'm a complete idiot writing about this. Oh well, I had
to find something to put in here in the writings section, and I found this
in my notebook, so I thought--what the heck!
Note: This is completely made up, fictional, etc. All obsessive actions in it are copyright 1997-98 by me :) If the person who this is about happens to stumble onto this page, umm...yeah. Give me a call ;-)
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