Tuesday, November 20, 2012

pierre dupluis

pierre dupluis is a silent man. who have always kept to himself. he is a watchmaker, and punctual time-keeper of sorts. 24 years young. he wears a brown vintage browline glasses. a family heirloom passed down for 3 generations. a solid man's man spectacles with character, his father always told him. he steadies his solid man's man glasses, holding it in between his index finger and thumb. he then ran his fingers through his hair, a compulsive habit he could not shake off since his juvenile days. his hair, brown auburn slightly greased, immaculately side swept with a fine toothed hair comb which is always in his left pants back pocket. in the sunlight it shone majestically. even being the purveyor of great hair, pierre dupluis is a modest man.

on this fine day, pierre dupluis is a dapper man. wearing his grey pants which he thought fitted him perfectly and a suit jacket with a patch at the elbows, which he thought would be good protection if he decides to fall on his elbows. his checkered shirt buttoned to the top and complete-wrapped with a nifty black bow-tie. on his right arm, a gem from his collection of watches. a piece which he could rightly call his masterpiece, his magnum opus. handmade by yours truly, to the tiniest of details, and almost a faultless design if not flawless.

his confidence is high for that particular time of day and he is certain that he is ready. all ready to meet forever. forever is a girl, he is about to meet. he does not know when she will arrive nor how. but he is completely certain that she will. he sits silently, on the park bench with a full bouquet of roses at the ready like a quiver full of arrows and his arms the bow to bend for an anticipatory embrace. he sits still, as time passes by and the fine sunny day takes a turn.

pierre dupluis is a patient man.

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