My World

December 3, 2008
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Headphones in, eyes closed. She swayed slightly and tapped her foot to the sound of the music in such a way that I could almost feel the beat inside me. She was across the street, sitting on a partially white bench with large spots where the paint had began to peel, revealing the natural wood. It was a cold day. The first truly cold day of the year. The sky was hazy overhead, threatening to burst open and sprinkle a dusting of early snow.
But she was dressed warm. Short hair peeking out underneath a black-knit cap, her delicate neck wrapped in an over-large blue scarf. She was stunning. She didn’t belong on the graffiti-covered, old gum-encrusted bench. But there she was, every morning at the same time, in that same spot, listening to music intently. The world was blurred around her, and she didn’t seem to notice it.
Some days she would bring a book with her. She was even more marvelous while concentrating, her head lowered, occasionally lifting her hand to tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face back into the hat.
The bus pulled up and I averted my eyes to look into the now luke-warm cup of black coffee. Without really thinking I took a sip, grimaced. I didn’t like warm coffee. The waitress was at the table now, looking across the street at the bus, one eyebrow raised. She asked me if I wanted her to refill my cup. I shook my head. She started to leave, then came back, her white tennis-shoe squeaking against the pea-soup colored tiles as she turned on her heel. She leaned forward, resting one hand on the table, the other on her hip. She looked slightly aged, perhaps from raising children, I guessed. But her eyes told a different story. They were large and youthful, deep brown.
“I see you in here every morning,” she said quietly, her eyes laughing like a child‘s. “Talk to her.” Her back was already turned to me before I could say anything, and I watched her disappear into the kitchen, then looked out the window. Too late. She was gone with the bus.
I pursed my lips and sighed, left the waitress a tip by the half-empty cold coffee. I gathered up my things, a ratty black computer bag full of paper and pens instead of a laptop, and the newspaper I had bought at a stand.
I tucked the newspaper under my arm and pushed open the glass door. The cold wind swirled against my face, kissing my cheeks red. My eyes focused on a flake of snow falling in front of me. I watched it, swirling slightly in the breeze, slowly until it touched the cracked sidewalk.
The world repositioned itself in front of me, suddenly covered in a whirlwind of white. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and started off down the street, drinking in the fresh scent that the new snow brought with it. Maybe tomorrow, I thought, turning the corner and leaving behind the little coffee shop.





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liv_10 said...
Sept. 5, 2009 at 1:08 am
I made an account JUST so I can comment this! I love it Chels! I'm so happy for you! I miss you girl! xo
-livvy
 
enigma99 replied...
Feb. 28, 2010 at 6:08 pm
This is such a great story!
I've been looking for inspiration for a story of my own... would you mind if I wrote the same story from the girl's perspective? I would give full credit to you for the idea, of course :)
Let me know! I'd love to do it!
 
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