"She's not fat," Rose retorted, with the slightest edge to her voice that she hadn't used with me before. "She's natural and beautiful. That's what women look like," she said, stating it as fact. Her tone was firm and unyielding, but not angry. She said it in a way that was direct and to the point, and then left me to look at the picture alone.
I let her in and gave her my attention. I will never forget the color of her eyes or how deeply she needed to connect to another person here on earth. To be seen among the living.
We're so blinded by the glare of the trivial.
So much easier to hide behind a hashtag
Than to create something real.
When your normal routine gets monotonous why not try throwing in a little of that “Imagination filter”?
I want to see a black women in a lead which only requires her to be a great character. I want her to be a fully fleshed out human being because that is what I am.
If the Metro were human, she would have to be someone who doesn't take shit from anyone, is either super late or too early, and is a great defender of vagrants and weirdos; a patron saint of not giving a fuck.
As she stepped outside, she saw him standing there by his car, iPhone over his head with Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” playing. She blinked. John Cusack was in her driveway.