Sunday December 11, 2005

    “So what did he say?” Her friend said.
    “He had something more important.” She answered, moving hair our of her tense face with a shaky hand.
    Her friend doesn’t answer, just stands there with the nonchalance that she does so well. I can’t tell if it is because she doesn’t know what to say, or is distracted. Or just waiting for more information. It seems to work.
    “He was at the movies with his brother.” And she moves the stray hair behind her ear again. The pain is visible on her face. The darting of the eyes, glistening with tears waiting to be freed. The muscles in her face, the way she holds her shoulders, they way she is standing on her feet all point to the pain and disipointment that he didn’t show up.
    That is it. She stops. There is some comunication between her and her friend that I understand but I don’t know how, that stops the talking. I can’t tell if it is something like ‘we will talk about this later,’ or ‘there will be solice later.’ All I can really pick up is the ‘later’ part, comunicated equally between the two.
    It is time for me to go, so I say good bye and leave. Leaving the building, but not quite leaving everything behind. I know my dreams will be haunted tonight.

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