Thursday, August 30, 2012
Looking dashing, Brian Williams wears a silk stripe of bootblack and porcelain white this evening. When he finally found her, she was standing in a drift of books and papers, feeding documents into the scanner on the fourth floor of the university library. Moving deftly and lightly, their white gloves gave her hands the appearance of doves flitting to and fro, as if she were a magician practicing her act. He was afraid to startle her here in the reverent silence of the archives; his arrival was unexpected. He felt for the box in his coat pocket and smiled.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:32 PM