A Wednesday in the Annex

On Wednesday I walked up the street to the Annex Hodgepodge to get a sandwich. Outside was a bearded hipster in a red, Mickey Mouse sweater eating a sandwich. Every once in awhile something would get lost in his beard, but he was fastidious and would find it just before he took his next bite. Cycling past on the street was a pretty girl who gave him a double take and then a big, slow smile, but he didn’t notice and so that moment, so loaded with potential, slipped away. She idled further ahead at the traffic light, either pleased with herself for the committing to the bold, spontaneous grin or embarrassed that it made no impression and fell away into traffic.

The girl in front of me in the line-up was squarely built and dressed like a farmer. She had the red hair of an outsider and looked quiet, like she was still trying to decide who she was to become. On her right wrist there was a tattoo, a vividly green box with the word LIFE beneath it– a rebellion of optimism. You could see how the liberty of a new city and the excitement of an unwritten life, just now, finally developing, was animating her eyes, her eyes, which were so alert and watching everything,  just waiting for what was to happen next.