Waiting For Something.

Midtown. Courtesy Nick DeWolf

She’s been standing there for most of the afternoon.

I know this because I’ve been watching her.

She hasn’t sat down once and she only just started to lean up against the wall.

That heavy bag must be making her uncomfortable but she hasn’t put it down which makes me think that there is something important in there.

Maybe that is why she is waiting.

Is she delivering or picking up?

No, that’s not it.

It’s too obvious; she’s too obvious.

It has to be something else.

She doesn’t look sad but she does look determined.

My sister had that same look. She was rarely happy and always annoyed; at least she was always annoyed with me, which was only my fault some of the time. She made a type of career out of being annoyed. Come to think of it, I don’t know what she did for a living.

You don’t think about stuff like that when you are young.

I’d love to know what this woman is waiting for but I have to start work and the boss doesn’t like it if I’m late.

“Be well dressed, smile and don’t be late.”

That’s his mantra.

As long as I stick to those three commands he doesn’t much care what else I do.

It’s a good job.

I wonder if this woman has a job?

I wonder if standing there is part of her job?

I wonder if she has a family that worries about her?

I guess I’m just going to have to wonder.

Some puzzles are destined to remain just that; a puzzle.