To pass the time (I)

15 Apr 2001

She sits squeezed into a leatherette window seat, feet up and gaze fixed unfixedly on the street outside. Her oval, faintly tanned face catches the tired sunlight, turning grey the fuzz at the back of her cheeks, exposed by pulling back her hair severely. Occasionally she remembers about her cigarette and takes a distracted drag; otherwise it burns slowly, almost smokelessly - neglected.

Her coffee has gone cold (the coffee, like the cigarette, is a prop). When - if - her attention returns to the inside of the shop, she will feel self-conscious and go to order another. From the quiet and calm of self-absoprtion she will have to connect to the noise and bustle of the real world, be spun once, twice - docked and orbiting social interaction - only to be released and return to her seat. For now, her small mouth is slightly open in thought, revealing two front teeth, aspirin-white.