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The Dark Lady

The handsome Senora wears long dark gray hair in a dignified knot at the nape of her neck; her skirts blow around her in the hot breeze. In her hands are parcels and parasols. She doesn’t belong in Progreso, no longer exotic, but in some interior village with cobbled streets and diffused light. She smiles and says something I still don’t understand with a mouth that is neither elderly nor brazen. The aging artist, a true coquette, she appears in love with every single day. I am still too shy to ask to take her photo.

There Are 2 Responses So Far. »

  1. I can see her, Jillian. And I think maybe her sister lives down the street from me.

    No need for a picture, you painted her for me already.

  2. [...] and witty, they always make me think. And laugh. And wish I was in my 30’s again. Read this post for sure, and check out the [...]

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