In Her Angles

He watched her as she bounced her leg against the wall of the M16 bus. He watched her heel tap the floor for a brief moment, only to spring back up again, bending her foot almost perpendicular to her toes. Not a perfect right angle. Somewhere between 180 and 90 degrees. He watched as her foot, shaped sweetly into the tiny ballet flat, as it created the most interesting angles against the floor if the bus. How they would grow from nothing, expanding and demonstrating larger areas. But they only lasted a moment before her foot fell into the empty space, closing the gap. Following the lines of her heel, up to her knee and onto her hip, he realized the many beautiful and skewed lines her body displayed sitting on the bench-style seat of the bus. How her calf and thigh met at her knee to form a perfect 90-degree angle, and her thigh met with her torso making another almost perfect angle. There was so much beauty in her geometry.