Each day, from morning to night she is there. Behind the
counter she sits, only moving to serve drinks and collect glasses. I am also
there every day. I know her well, but I hardly know her at all. We spend so much
time together, but we don’t talk. She brings me drinks. I leave money on the counter. I would like to talk
to her, but a state of equilibrium prevents me from acting. We make no effort
at communication, but we understand each other. We know this place. Alone
in space, we are two satellites sharing one orbit.
___________________
100 Words written for Friday Fictioneers.
This reminds me of a children's book where an elder lady didn't know she actually kept the neighborhood on time with her own routines.
ReplyDeleteAt least though in the happy ending of a child's story she finally did meet and talk with her neighbors. Nicely done.
Thanks again for your visit.
Cheers, Jules (JulesPaige)
Dear Roger,
ReplyDeleteNice to see you. Been a while. A poignant little social commentary you've written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Neatly done!
ReplyDeleteHard to track you, Roger. '-) Your story is a wee sad, too, in its own right. Thank you for the visit today!
ReplyDelete~Lynda
Not sure I'd want to share the same orbit with her but it's a nice evocation of one who does.
ReplyDeleteLike it. What a lonely image, though. Very sad.
ReplyDeleteMakes you wonder how many of us live the same kind of life!
ReplyDelete