Gloria’s Tears
I WAS IN LOVE WITH Gloria Marks, the girl from Wednesday night art class. I never really talked to her much, because she wore head phones in class. Sometimes I nodded to her when she looked at me. She usually smiled and continued painting.
She was gorgeous with long, luminous auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She was short, and slender, and always wore knee-high boots of some variety. One night she looked like Robin Hood, wearing green tights and worn, brown leather boots. She always wore a scarf, no matter what the weather was like outside, and she carried a large, slouchy purse where she stowed her art supplies.
I felt like we belonged together. Some cosmic pull that guided me to sit next to her every Wednesday. It took me almost six months to ask her, I mean, who w
