TIME & LIFE

© Christine Mastroianni, all rights reserved

It just looks like something I'd like to pick up and hold in my hand - smooth but not slick, compact but not crowded.. I imagine it as a tidy little paperweight resting substantially in my palm, geometrically perfect and asymmetrically satisfying. I love its eggshell blues, an unassuming matte exterior residing in harmony with the slate grey walls and sky-reflecting windows of its tall, structured neighbours.

And here it dwells, calmly observing the antics of the Avenue of the Americas' curbside inhabitants. Why, just this afternoon, it bore witness to that gregarious executive who was indeed every shade of slick in his impeccable Valentino suit and artfully touseled hair as he worked on cajoling his smart, female colleague into joining him for a post meeting cocktail.

Corporately fierce on the outside but charismatically vulnerable on the inside, her sensibility insisted refusal as her fluttering heart unwittingly gravitated towards his charms and conversational prowess. She imagined herself unhooking her fingers from the handle of her laptop bag and entangling them with his own, allowing him to lead her to his conveniently parked Audi S5. They would linger over Grey Goose martinis, only half listening to Sinatra, and she would slowly slide the olives down the crimson swizzle stick with her teeth as he seductively coated her ego with colloquial caramel...

But as much as she wanted to drop her laptop, she didn't. She gripped its leather handle like a vise and held her ground just as firmly, eventually departing proudly towards a cab. And once inside, she finally released her bag with a big sigh, feeling almost as blue as the smooth, compact planes of the Time Life sculpture as the cab weaved its way to her condo.