.I. Hidden Wings

One night, everything changed.

Last evening I met an angel in disguise.

She had red dread-locked hair heaped atop a doll's face which was framed with red perforated disc earrings and adorned with two metal stud piercings; one in her left nostril and another in the little hollow underneath her bottom lip. Her smile was beyond beautiful; that word is far too plain and over-used to do her justice. She was more than seductive, sexy, or ravishing because these things speak only of her body, but the thing that I fell in love with was her mind. That night, however, I did not yet know her mind nor her heart. But if there is such a thing as destiny, this was it.

God she was beautiful, I swear it. Not in the usual modern interpretation of beauty, with meticulously manicured nails and an elaborately elegant hairstyle and six-inch heels whose colour matches her lipstick and a plunging neckline leading to an over-done cleavage begging for attention, but beautiful in that she didn't try to be any of that. In this soulless city of steel and glass and rampant superficiality, she was down to Earth. She was real.

There she was, dancing barefoot in a corner by herself, shielded by a good friend and totally unconcerned with the strangers around her, almost as if she were in her own world; by no means lost in her imagination, but rather perfectly content in her own reality. 

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