So She Thought, "Why Not Write It Down?"

[Because sometimes I narrate in third person...]

It had been a long day.

She couldn't fully explain it. Part of it had to do with the number of people who asked if it was particularly quiet at their end of the building now. She usually forced a chuckle and a yes, but the truth was that she hadn't noticed as much as she had expected.

Part of it was the fact that she was just plain tired.

And perhaps another part was the anticipation of things to come, things that she knew were going to be less than pleasant.

In any case, as she walked into the bookstore she wasn't her usual cheerful self -- and she was feeling self-conscious about it. She was surprised at the person working behind the counter in the cafe, a friendly guy who always seemed to remember her. He greeted her as always, chuckled at her "long week" comment, didn't pry when she was uncharacteristically quiet, and handed over her coffee with a smile and a see-you-later.

She settled in with a book and her coffee to read and people-watch.

There was the cute guy with the hunting magazine -- coffee, plenty of cream and a little sugar, had also chuckled at her "long week" comment and asked about her book. The girl who walked in wearing a way-too-short-for-March-even-if-it-was-barely-above-freezing black dress and fuzzy pink flip-flops. The gentleman with two small children, including a rambunctious boy of about four.

"Daddy ... Is this chocolate?"

"Yes."

"Ooooh ... What about this?"

"No, that's a book."

And the usuals: retired teachers, a mailman, a pediatrician she recognized from church. Some of them shopping, others there for a brief respite from life like her.

She occasionally watched the cafe worker, wondering if his coworkers ever told him how many female customers asked if he was around on the nights he wasn't there. She had seen it several times herself and found it mildly amusing every time.

And then, of course, there was her. The quietly judgmental, always-sitting-alone awkward engineer. Boy, the things she would think about herself if she were someone else.

After awhile she found her focus returning and she left, thinking only about dinner and the things that had to be done when she got home. Her house had fallen into an unusually solid state of chaos, even for her; there was a lot to be done before she could feel like a normal functioning adult again.

She had a feeling it would take some time.