Shape

Shape

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Romance

Houses:

Tags

Share :
Twitter

Tags

Content

Submitted: May 02, 2017

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: May 02, 2017

A A A

A A A


Shape

 

I was about to go on break and noticed that the interesting girl was headed there to. Headed to the fake four- walled giant cubicle with a white fridge and white microwave. If there was a bird’s eye view of this place, you would notice a giant square made up of other squares. Four chairs that felt like you were sitting on plywood, were the uncomfortable catalyst that forced conversation weather it was wanted or not.

Her perfectly cut short hair screamed maturity to me. Women these days let it hang loose, they think the imperfectness of it is appealing or something, the “I don’t try look”. For some reason her short height and short hair in combination made me think she was extremely smart. Intimidating in a way. I couldn’t even tell if she was nice. I was hoping to find out something in the break room about this interesting girl.

I put my food in the microwave and watched it because I could see the reflection of the open door entrance to the break room. When I saw her come in I itched my head for some reason. I sat down with my food not directly in front of her, but one seat over, thought that might be weird. Didn’t want to get in the way of the sterile-view.  The way she sat let me know she was probably a 4.0 in graduate school. She sat like a stop sign, perfectly straight posture that was almost as intimidating as the hair and height.

 

God she ate quiet; I wonder what she was thinking about when she ate. I’m guessing everything. I decided to speak up and asked what her name was. “Samantha”, she said easily without asking for my name in return. I told her anyway. “Well nice to meet you I’m, Tony”. She nodded and kept eating. I was sort of surprised at how nice she said her name. She had this motherly tone to it. I was nervous about what to talk about with her. For a reason I could not explain, I felt like I could learn so much from a person like her. A creepy angst kept telling me to find out more about her. She ate so mechanically, without fault. It looked like she handled stress like rain on a windshield, flip of a switch and it was taken care of.

 

Each time our eyes connected, I noticed a glimmer of loneliness. Kind of like I was looking at a candle from far away, just a hint. I decided to bring up relationships with her. Told her me and my girlfriend were going to a festival next weekend. This was my way of telling her I was in a relationship, vs the blatant way. I wanted her to know I was committed to something. She began to tell me absolutely nothing about her relationship or lack thereof. I already knew she had someone special, I think the walk gave it away. She walked with a sway straight and tall that kind of was stand-offish, like:” I’m not yours”, giving away that she was someone else’s.  I couldn’t figure out those eyes though, why did they look lonely? Why didn’t her walk, posture, hair, ethic, match her eyes? It’s like her eyes must have remembered everything they have ever seen while her mind was moving on to quickly, pushing the reset button before getting fully through a tough situation. Shopping, texting while driving, and drive thrus were probably examples of her resets. Her eyes were begging for comfort. She blinked a lot too, so you would think that a few bursts of rapid fire blinking would get rid of the grey, top-of-lake murkiness that sat there, but blinking wasn’t enough.

 

It was a little saddening looking in these eyes, but at the same time it was cool. Cool seeing honest eyes. Eyes willing to differentiate themselves from the head and not succumb to the need to get over tough or unwanted situations as fast as possible. She should follow her eyes. Her eyes have been following her around waiting for some closure. Her ego was on an elevator, not caring what was on each floor, just trying to go up, while her eyes always made the choice to take the stairs. The difference between her eyes and her head was that her eyes knew that understanding and learning were more important than pressing buttons and going up.

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Spencer1. All rights reserved.

Booksie Spring 2017 Flash Fiction Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Spencer1

Bright White

Poem / Memoir

Rodeo

Short Story / Romance

Shape

Short Story / Romance

Popular Tags