Sighs Matter, #1

There's nothing like it. The soft little sound that says so much, even when it comes with no words.


It was about the last day of the class. That's how long it took me back in '88, although I'm no speedier, now. We were finally talking about things that weren't photography. We had seen the same movie, Risky Business, on our first dates. Cheesecake (no toppings) was our dessert of choice. We both liked Pink Floyd and The Sugarcubes. The list went on and on, and we were laughing at all the similarities; finishing each other's sentences and calling out the answers to questions that we both knew exactly how to answer.

We were sort of slowing down as we neared our cars. The moment of truth. My moment, of course.

Hey! She stopped at my Mustang. Imagine. But, then she leaned against the other Mustang. The one I'd parked next to that morning, just to check out. The one that was virtually identical to mine, other than the color. I laughed and leaned against my Mustang.

She asked, "Is that yours?"

I nodded. "You have a blue '67."

"You have green." She paused for a moment, then she sighed. "Uh, do you need more time?"