White and perfect, at first I didn’t understand. A pearl earring on his earlobe, this man who wears  tan slacks and a brown plaid blazer and sensible brown shoes. I tugged on my un-pierced earlobe, hidden behind my thick hair. I didn’t see the man for a few weeks. When I did see him next the earring was still there and now he wore a pink cable knit sweater. The blush on his cheeks was a stark contrast to the black stubble of his facial hair. Days later, there he was in the lunch room, wearing a stylish blond wig. The long hair was tucked behind his left ear, the pearl earring pure and beautiful. His floral skirt touched the ground as he walked, the tips of his brown shoes sticking out from underneath.  I did not see him again. I wonder at times what became of him. If that single pearl earring still graces his rather large earlobe. Lovely and alone.


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