He looked terrifically out of place, dressed like that, here on the trail.
She was a bit irritated at the utter distraction of him.
Yet, he was fascinating.
But, she was trying to take a walk through the woods down to the fish ladder of the old mill creek; and, here was a man in a three piece suit, postured in repose on the sopping bank, as though prostrating before some ancient pagan god.
And, from across the salmon’s spawning pond, she espied that while his necktie was perfectly knotted, the color and pattern of it did not suit his suit.
Not in the slightest.
Off-rack; Tailor made. Beholden; Bespoke
He just sat there. Brutally still, Unnaturally, there in the tall grass.
Loafers in the mud. Simply wearing all the wrong clothes.
She imagines he must be a terrible dancer.
And, she suddenly wants to interrupt him and ask for a dance.
WrittenCasey 