Slipping Into Something More Convertible

While standing in my yard, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, I saw a neighborhood woman walking down the street. I had never seen her before but noticed that her looks were rather unremarkable and she was carrying a very large handbag, gripped with both hands. She clomped away in a pair of clog-like sandals and, as her upper torso concentrated on captaining the big handbag, her stride had a kind of twisty motion. She disappeared in the distance and I went about my business of enjoying the summery weather.

Later, I heard a car drive up and looked out my window. Right in front of my house was this brand-new red convertible driven by a dark-haired babe with an American Idol smile. The car was a MX-5 Miata, candy apple red with sporty aluminum wheels. Smart. Very smart.

The woman, actually a young lady, got out of the car with flair as if the car had imparted some spirit to her demeanor. Her long legs swung out the door and she stood up nobly to display her lithe physique. Her effulgent pony tail swung from side to side as she moved. She closed the door and then reached into the back seat and retrieved her very large handbag, gripped it with both hands and clomped away, strutting with kind of a twisty motion.