Meeting That Girl

I kept looking at her. There was just something familiar about her.

Maybe it was the way she dressed. Perhaps it was the shape of, well, of her face.  The fact that she was black had a lot to do with it. She wasn’t black in the racial sense that we commonly use. She was black, like the words in a newspaper headline.

“Yes, I’m her”, she said, “didn’t anyone tell you it is impolite to stare?” She caught me. “I’m sorry. You look so familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen you before. What’s worse, I mean, besides getting caught staring, is that I can’t put my finger on why I think I’ve seen you.” Read the rest of this entry »