Nedda drips with the elegance of velvet and gold. She walks with a lightness as though she's always dancing. She's Darjeeling tea. She is a full faux mink coat because loves animals in the way that they exist, but doesn't prefer to be around any.
Champagne taste with a beer budget. We split peanut butter and jelly empinadas at this vegetarian cyclist bar on North. She talks about her ex husband and his shenanigans with a dust movement off her shoulder and a roll of her sparkling eyes.
"Boys," she says. "The world needs more men."
"I'll drink to that." I say lifting my luke cold PBR tall boy- this evening's special.
It's drizzling outside with an impending Chicago fog. We walked there without umbrellas. My face is still wet.
Her presence humbles me. Her lasais faire attitude is calming.
She will walk around her house naked while I'm at the kitchen table, speaking of her modeling while I drink rose tea. She will talk of our dire need to both get out of this town.
"You have so much heart," she says, "Good heart. You need to be in a place that needs it."
You need to live like in a way that you don't feel the road goes on forever. It's either a horizon or a cliff right off the earth and you don't know which it is-but you keep walking. If you do this long often enough you will have survived both a thousand times over. The peace from overcoming will be the greatest gift.
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