Her Own World

A quiet girl sits in the corner of the cafe, eyes set on her laptop and legs tightly crossed under the dark wooden table. She’s practically invisible as she continues through her work as if it’s any normal day. She’s quiet and concealed, but she notices everything. The quiet ones are always the most observant.

The other people in the cafe stand tall, speak loudly, and continue through their business without even a glance at the girl in the corner as she sits separated, as if by a thousand seas.

Their voices radiate through her ever shifting mind, mingling with her thoughts that are fluidly moving before being brought to life through many clicks of keyboard keys.

They don’t realize is that they are too being brought to life, a different life. One behind a glass screen, written out in black and white.

The round woman wearing the floral dress, hair propped on top of her head dressed with an orange flower, appears in her mind. She mixes with the story beyond the girl’s blonde curls and begins to transform and take shape, appearing trapped behind thin glass.

The old man sitting in the light caramel leather seat, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table, eyes shielded by round glasses that sit low on his wide nose also begins to mingle with the story, but in the quiet girl’s mind, he has other intentions than reading the crumbled newspaper that was disassembled on the floor under the coffee table. Instead this man has found interest in the floral woman as she stands in line waiting to order her coffee. His eyes, instead of gliding across the dark smudged newsprint, glide across the woman’s plumb body, fixating on her round breasts and full behind.

What these people don’t realize is that they are beginning to take shape in another world. The quiet girl’s world. A world where there are no limits, no expectations, no room for judgments beyond what the girl can muster up in her own mind. A world where she is in control. A world where these people will never know they have visited.

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