The way the sun danced patterns on her shoulder length cherry red hair was like poetry, while her skirts twirled around her legs, hinting promises of untold treasures. She was a tall girl, with not much in the way of a body and movements not unlike that of a cat. A lioness, maybe… But Christ she was beautiful! All arms and legs and skirts and not much else.
I was sitting in King George Square when I saw her, my own skirts bunched up in my lap, the pages of my writing book looking less than empty. She was a University student, Drama in Education, and she liked to sit on the beach for hours on end. I just liked watching her for hours on end.
I wondered if she had noticed me yet.
Today, she was dancing in the water, shoes abandoned, skirts hitched, running the lengths of the fountains, kicking the water high in the air and scaring off the pigeons.
She had been waiting for me, so I ran to join her… she is, after all, my best friend.
- Melissa Vowell