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Second Sight
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2
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It was dusk. The street was calm and quieter, but still she sat, gaze fixed
straight ahead on the object. Thing. What was it? It was captivating; it
had held her gaze all day and made her contemplate all of her deepest
emotions, but still she didn't know what it was. Maybe it had been sent to
make her think? She didn't know. She had thought for so long, about him,
them, the whole sorry, sour mess. Sour. Now there was a word. It
described exactly how she felt. About him. Just sourness, like the smell
of old milk, or bad eggs, or rotten fish.
She was still watching, listening.
Her eyes grew heavy. She could feel sleep creep up on her. She tried to
pull each and every last bit of energy up so she could watch for as long as
possible. She could hear some people approaching behind. They stopped.
She stared ahead, but listened to what they were saying, and doing. A voice
seemed familiar. She concentrated, allowing her eyes to rest slightly, but
still fixed ahead. Yes, the voice was familiar; she knew it almost too
well. It called out. "Hey! What are you doing sat there?" It was him.
She blinked.
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