privacy and a timid fear


-As of today I am unemployed. Though, as it is only for a week I cannot bathe in it. What I can, however bathe in, is my whereabouts. As it stands I am in Savannah, in an old red armchair, falling slowly in love with the woman across the coffee table. She is on her computer just as i am on mine, and what is more she is talking aloud to the screen. Of course, I instantly detest anyone rude enough to skype in public, but this girl is different. This time it means something. She is, in native and well-spoken German, describing her life here. She is full of wonder, excited , and between adventures. I cannot say if there is a pure confidence in her manner, or if she simply feels comfortable in the false-privacy of a foreign language.
-The latter missfortune is one i have seen so often at home, when visited by American friends or strangers, when alone and observing tourists. It had been so often offensive, but can, as often, be the reverse.
-I know it's happened: someone, assuming you to be out of earshot, leans to a friend and says a word. It is about you, and kind. I, sometimes too shy to be uplifting, write encouragements to an empty page, and put the book back on my desk. Maybe you, not wanting to ruin a chance, or not wanting to take one, go home in the late afternoon and watch a romance.
-We wait, as do the ones for whom we do so- and life goes on.

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