Characters, Vol. II

12 December 2009 § 5 Comments

Usually a busy causeway, the street is silent, desolate. The wind does not dance the dead leaves or plastic bags gracefully in any direction. Overcast hides the sun, and it is neither warm nor cold. The air smells of exhaust and asphalt. Perhaps a nearby restaurant has customers, and the scent of fried food drifts past. The traffic lights assist nothing, no one. This is a rare moment, but the scene is not romantic. A film would depict no particular emotion.

Nearby, there is a girl. She is crying, and does not care if anyone sees her. She is sitting on her heels, knees on the ground, and does not wipe her tears. She does not touch her face at all.

The girl sits, weeping a calm acceptance into submission. She wants to be raging, but there is too much understanding for that. She occupies the eastbound lane but does not move.

Eventually, the city will come back to life, and she will have stopped crying some time ago. She will stand up before the next car turns onto the street and walk along the center line, and think that she has always wanted to do that. This will make her smile. She may tug gently on her shirt, straightening it and her stride will be more confident, but it may not increase with any certain number of steps.

The girl knows that she is not walking in the same direction from which she came, but this does not bother her. She gives a sidelong glance to her right, to no one, and with an amused sigh she realizes that she cannot name the direction she is headed in, and is tempted to be annoyed with this, but chooses not to care.

To watch her facial expressions is to listen to a passionate debate, a conversation between a princess and an artist, comedy and imagination – but there is no one watching, and the exchange is a phenomenon that is, for now, hers alone.

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§ 5 Responses to Characters, Vol. II

  • Mark William Jackson says:

    Excellent character, I like the analysis of her thought processes, the ‘conversation between a princess and an artist’, the way we know what she is thinking with regards to direction but do not know why she was crying, which reveals that she does not know why she was crying?

  • Katie Bird says:

    On a certain night on a certain street in Anchorage I may have been bawling my eyes out because I might have been highly intoxicated. This street wise looking gentleman with a toothpick in his teeth crossed the street and to make sure I was ok. After confirming that I was only emotional and otherwise unharmed he took off. I think I stopped crying after that.

  • Katie Bird says:

    Perhaps I was that night at lest. Reading this made me think about being observed when you don’t realize it or are too absorbed in whatever it is you’re doing to care. Like how in a city there could be any number of people peering out their windows witnessing your life with out you knowing it.

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