Jolie

I looked out the window from the corner of the room, and in the narrowed frame of the street I saw her in a purple prom dress picking along the grit of the sidewalk, the toes of her ballet slippers popping in and out like the heads of violet frogs. I stood up but didn't move any closer, taking a curious vantage in a shadow of the room. She held her arms out away from her and weaved slightly, letting her gown billow, the enjoyment of the air on her legs written on her face, framed by the curls tumbling all around her smiling mouth. I was drawn forward, she bobbed to the fuzzy bass playing on the next block, and if she had a wand I think she'd bestow fairy godmother blessings on the mailboxes and newspaper dispensers she was passing. I watched her, mysterious and wonderful, twinkling and oblivious to the purple discord she brought. I hoped she'd turn and see me, wave for me to come and join her. Pressing my nose to the window I waited, but she only did a pirouette in the fading firefly light of a streetlamp and disappeared into a snatch of midnight.