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	<title>Prosey Things</title>
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		<title>The Meeting</title>
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		<description> She walks into the restaurant.  She was running late and so met us here rather than meeting first and coming with him.  I wonder if that was a ploy, for her to make an entrance.  But the minute she walks in I realize she needs no ploy, she makes her own entrance wherever she goes. 
 
She is not conventionally pretty, but she is undeniably beautiful. She carries off a style all her own. Cashmere mock turtleneck with a felted wool embroidered vest layered over top. Artsy and vaguely Peruvian. Straight jeans clinging without actually being tight,  snug enough though, to tug and pull just a bit over her rounded bottom as she walks.  Although walk isn’t the word, exactly.  She strides into the room, feline grace without a bit of cattiness to it.  There’s something of a larger cat in it, ocelot, panther? She doesn’t quite turn heads, but lots of eyes follow her as she passes, tugs the corner of more than a few lips in her wake.  ... more  </description>
		<dc:creator>TriOak</dc:creator>
		<category>Prosey Things</category>
		<pubDate>Thu, 15 Feb 2007 19:47:04 GMT</pubDate>
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