At a bar in London

It was late afternoon when I heard the door to the bar jingle jovially. Looking up from my spot in the sun I saw two girls wander in, broad smiles animated in typical girly talk, or so it seemed from my position. Totally unremarkable. I returned to my drink and my task at the table as the sun began to pull clouds over it like bed covers.
"Are these seats taken?"
Looking up, I saw one of the two girls I had seen before. The other, I think she had long curly hair, was nowhere to be seen.
"By seats I take it your friend will be sitting here also?" I quizzed
"Yeah. She's in the loo." Was the answer I got. Her voice was polite, it had a good quality to it. Typical middle english accent.
"Knock yourselves out" I inclined the seats were now theirs.

The young girl gave me a brief nod and smile of thanks, both of which fled quickly as I became another stranger in another bar. Inquisitive as I am I took the opportunity to peruse the young lady opposite me. She had taken out a large notebook and was writing with relaxed fluidity. It seemed to me to be something practiced often, a clear hobby of hers. Her hair as long and dark, I only realised it was a very dark brown when the light hit it at certain angles. The colour was interesting, the tone sleek and shiny. Parted to the side it lightly curtained her face. Clearly she was not of anglo-saxon descent but people of anglo-saxon descent tend to be boring to look at. The tanning of her skin accentuated both her hair and her wide brown eyes, currently locked in a furious scowl battling the words written on her notepad. Frequently she pursed her lips which did attract the eyes. Facially she was simple. A simple nose below simple eyes and above simple lips. A lot, however, can be said for simplicity. Watching her write on the page you could read her face and her thoughts by her expressions. The simple wide eyes allowed for momentous expression, her mouth forming secretive but no less enthralling smiles and pouts, the simple line of her brow expressing often more then words ever could. She was wrapped up in her writing. It was obvious she loved to write. I, for one, had no wish to fault her or her subtle earthy beauty.

Letting my eyes wander I took in the rest of her form. She wore long sleeves beneath a T-Shirt that was like a flag for some band I'd only heard of in adverts, an indy band I wasn't familiar with. This ensemble made her arms seem thin but dextrous and her shoulders rounded. It was impossible to miss her ample bosom and I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice them. I am but a man, after all. Unlike most of today's generation of women, she wasn't rake-like thin. Nor, like today's entire populace seems to be, was she obese in any way. To me this young girl seemed to represent a sort of physical middle path. It was appealing. What can I say. She was cute.

Her friend came back and they began chatting. Evesdropping, unintentionally naturally, I gathered togather a lot about both the young woman and her young woman friend. Both had lovely voices which made everything more pleasant. I picked out a voracious love of laughter from both as they talked naturally and jokingly. The sense of humour was surreal and tangential. It sounded like a pair of birds exchanging various bird calls too quickly to follow to the untrained ear. Bizarre interests cropped up, dressing up as fictional characters, singing various songs, 'squeeing' over things, various oriental names cropped up rather often. To one unversed in such things it would sound childish and rather annoyingly confusing. Luckily, coincidence was on my side. Many things referenced by them fell onto my knowing ears, aligning themselves with my interests and hobbies.

Perhaps I could make some good friends here