There’s a woman who sits in the corner of the coffee shop, she’s always looking out, eyes cataloging and surveying the world. Occasionally some brave soul risks striking up a conversation with her. It’s always slow going; like she’s carefully deciding how to pair her words together, what best way to weave them so they make the biggest impact. More than once her conversation partner gets frustrated and leaves abruptly, mid-sentence. Leaving her carefully woven words left to unravel into nothing, like a threadbare blanket that has a strand that can’t hold on any longer. She never reacts violently to it, just sitting back in acceptance.
Today you sit across from her, your conversation is slow and stunted. There are long pauses and half-formed thoughts. For you too weave your words together slowly, making sure every word has its place.
Prompt 1/31 for December Writing Prompts.