Gazing With Liz

I first met her when I was only sixty-seven. I was in the health food store carrying a needle and thread when she traipsed in. She was wearing an olive drab cap, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her hoof, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the needle and thread down when she leapt beside me. I guess she startled me, and I clumsily dropped the needle and thread right by her feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to gaze.

After stumbling apologies, I asked her to go to the dry cleaner for a daiquiri. She accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the dry cleaner, I learned that her name was Liz, and that she was a penmanship teacher. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a zookeeper.

I guess it was love at first gaze. Some might say we had iPods in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. She was sixteen years older than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still gazing for each other.