Covered in sparkles, re-reading William S. Burrough's The Yage Letters. Waiting for the G.
"Excuse me, I didn't think angels walked on earth," mumble mumble mumble.
He was so young - maybe 17. With shyness, and an awful pickup line. He told me I was beautiful, asked me my name, my age. And suddenly, for the first time ever, the G arrived on time. I ran to the front, with my book, and thought, "These moments won't happen forever. I'm not sure what they are, but they are temporary."
And, feet aching from dancing, I sat and I read.