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Rated: E · Short Story · Tribute · #1890040
Growing old.
The Beauty

My father had to send a remittance somewhere it required a draft on a specific bank, and I was dispatched to do the needful.

The girl at the bank counter was one of the most beautiful I had seen; young, very nice features, a good figure and a pleasant voice to go with it all, well my linguistic skill are not quite adequate to do her justice. To cut a long story short my eyes remained riveted on her and I frankly gaped.

She evidently was used to such homage and said as she handed me the draft “ Worth a look aren’t I, I answered “Yes” thanked her for the draft and left the bank quite elated. She had made my day

The elation evidently persisted to be noticed by a colleague and close friend with whom I had some work that day. So I narrated what had happened.

He was initially as surprised as I had been and remarked that such self-confidence was rare, and may be she accepted such things as her due. He pondered a while however and said may be it has something to do with your age, you are old enough for her to feel safe in saying such things to you.

Quite probably true what he said I was nearing fifty

I am now past sixty
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