Looking aroud me.

I’m in the heart of the business town. Tall but not so tall skyscrapers type of buildings, people walking fast, people crossing streets, cars running fast, a typical city chaos. And inside that whole terrible scene, here I am hiding in a one safe corner inside of a building. Hidden behind a glass wall where I can still see what’s happening outside.
People come and go around me, but I have decided to stay here. I got myself a latte coffee and sat on a high chair where I can get a better view of everything, although I am writing a raise my eye sometimes to see around.

A lot of business people wearing uniforms, suits, carrying papers and other working stuff walk beside me. But among the crowd I spot in front of me a Spanish guy on the phone, talking in his typical Spanish accent, talking to someone but he seemed angry. I wonder how long he’s been living this crazy city life. Seconds later two other guys meet up with him but he doesn’t pay attention to them, his phone conversation is more important. I guess his name is Carlos, I am not sure, but I think I heard right when the barista called him when his coffee was ready. This Carlos is blonde, and he’s wearing a squared blouse. Maybe you ask yourself, why I am writing about him.
The answer is this: I am here looking around and I spotted the only person I figured who by the way he speaks clearing doesn’t belong here. He’s blonde, nobody else here have a different hair color except the gray hairs inside most of the business man around here. I stay here sitting next to Carlos and his company thinking that maybe they noticed me because they keep putting eyes on me. I know it’s weird to see a young woman typing intensely on the phone, but I’m not texting; I am expressing my mind here. In this little business town and business life people will think I might be writing to someone but I am writing for myself.
Back to Carlos and company, these guys are planning things for their future, where will they work next, or planning to move town. But then they decided to leave the table in front of me, yes, they left to keep on with their lives.
And stay here, alone, writing on the only thing I have to write on, my phone, waiting for something that I don’t know. My coffee is cold now, around me people with purpose, people living their dreams or maybe just keeping pace of their responsibilities. I should follow them, plan and do, not stay here waiting for my coffee to get cold and life run past me.

Time walk by pass me just like the people around me, sometimes it stops but then you have to keep walking.



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