Monday, July 11, 2011


Among the flash mob goons, the rampaging vandals, the jerseyed hooligans rocking cars, smashing glass, posing in front of conflagrations – I saw you fall. You landed heavily, your bag flew from your arms. Your pretty legs were scraped, your hair was mussed. I kneeled before you, raised you in my arms and murmured “It’s okay” into your ear. You looked at me through tears and then – I kissed you. Your eyes widened in surprise. You smiled. We kissed again. I smoothed your russet hair, stood reluctantly – and ran, taking with me the Gucci bag you’d snatched from a shattered window.

Photo:  Rich Lam/Getty Images

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