She sat quietly looking at the photograph displayed in the local cafe. She always came in and order her shwarma platter with the spicy green sauce. No kebabs served here and they made sure to tell you that in bold letters on the storefront window. They wanted to take a kebab stand. No problem. She never really looked at the displayed items and artwork. she wondered what it all meant. Her internal monologue was broadcasted out into this little world.
Who’s that girl? Don’t we all want to be that girl that everyone wonders about the second your toe crosses that line? At times I felt like that girl. At times it was for being exotic while for other times it was for being tough-minded. Other times it was because I had worn two different shoes. I am sure now it is because I am talking out loud in the cafe. I am not a lonely cat woman.
Time to shut down that monologue broadcast. In all seriousness who is that girl? That head covering is so striking. The eyes to die for. What secrets is she holding onto? Were they the same as hers?
She finished her meal and gathered her belongings. It was time to get back to work and to the drudgery. But she knew what was going to happen there soon. She wondered how people could be so happy with mediocrity.
She stepped out into the sidewalk and it was eerily quiet. Everyone was just immersed in their music, texts and Facebook likes. How pathetic the world had become. The guy in front of her had a cute dog, although it yapped endlessly. That was the sound of everyday life. The guy in front tripped up a bit. Then stupidly she tripped up as well. She chastised herself for not being able to even walk straight or upright anymore. She scratched her head and clicked her tongue. She felt something was off. She looked back. Oh my god. They both had tripped over a body. A body!
She ran back and there was the woman in the framed cafe photographed. Her beauty was now a still life montage. Her eyes vacant and no purpose. How many had walked on by? It was time to wake up.