The Casual ObserverA Story by AliWatts
Short story that had to be 600 words or less.
It’s the kind of day where your ice cream will melt if you’re not paying attention. Perfect for settling in on a wooden bench, nestled in one of those fabricated main streets. You know, that place where people of all shapes and sizes meander in and out of shops while soft music floats around them from fake rocks. I sit here, among the perfectly lined trees and watch. Anything and anyone that crosses my path is subject to my observations, casual, of course.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman power-walking toward me. Arms swinging, legs gliding, sneakers, white, blurred; a flash of neon green spandex and gone. I let my eyes wander. I find a couple of kids fluttering about the huge fountain, asking their parents for change; no doubt for making wishes. I see owners walking their dogs and dogs walking their owners. There’s an older couple hand-in-hand, strolling along. Enjoying the day, much as I am.
An old woman with a cane limps into my sight. Moving slightly faster than a snail sludging its way up an incline, I can easily take in all of her minute details. She wears her hair in a stiff white poof. Even the strongest wind couldn’t contend with it. Behind her gray wire frame glasses, I see her sharp blue eyes staring ahead to her next destination. A salmon pink shirt blends perfectly with her skin. It’s hard to tell where her shirt ends and her pudgy arms begin.. The dark brown pants she wears would be deemed “high waters” by any pompous teenager. Her shoes are slightly lighter than the pants, worn around the edge of the soles. Everything about her is screaming bland, designed to blend in with the background. The only thing remotely flashy about this woman is a gold ring on her left hand.
She limps on and I push myself off of the bench. I see a group of people, one guy talking animatedly, waving his arms with his story telling. In one hand, he’s holding an ice cream cone. I can see it has started to drip slowly, making a path toward his fingers. As the brownish substance covers his hand, he stops everything and begins to lick furiously. When he’s finished, he says laughing, “ I didn’t even notice.”
I smile to myself as I start walking. Told ya.
© 2012 AliWatts
AboutI love to be creative in any way. Art is my first passion, writing is probably my second. Although, I haven't spent much time writing the past few years, I feel my spark is coming back. Hopefully, thi.. more..