Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Moses or Ipanema?

Her stride is cultivated grace, her hair elegantly coiffed, her skirt cut to swirl above her knees just so, her back slightly arched for best projection.

But she does not walk in joy, granting a Mona Lisa smile to her admirers. Her head is bowed as if rapt in prayer to the tablet in her hand.

It shines, but her face does not.

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