She walked into the banking hall, with her
pointed shoes announcing her arrival minutes
before you saw her.
She wore that kind of dress that convinces you
that heaven is missing an angel.
The aroma of her perfume would easily finish a bowl of eba for its sweetness.
And the phone which she gingerly held to her ear,
without minding the security guy that was waving
frantically at her that calls are not allowed in
banking halls, will cost a small fortune.
She stepped forward, picked a deposit slip and
searched frantically for a pen.
About five guys offered her their pens but she took
mine, maybe because I was closest to her.
After a while, or a long while because time stood
still, she stood up and inched closer to me.
I was sweating like a pregnant fish and huffing and
puffing like a Monitor lizard.
She whispered, "Please can you spell 'thirty' for
me?"
I looked down at her deposit slip in surprise.
She had written, 'Tarty Tausan'!
BEAUTY IS NOT EVERYTHING.