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Feb. 21, 2007 Phenomenology Smiling the flowers Said we are here And fruit smells And even chlorine By the sun Raining went The rain to say It was there And even old Wood or fire Muddy streets And sad cars But the horses Are muscular Rushing water And plastic, Dirtied and broken, But the birds Still sound Shadows There was a big shadow there and it was of a tree. It was a time of the day when the vendors began to close up and head home. Some went to eat at small restaurants and some went to the cantina. She was a vendor, and she was waiting just a bit longer before closing up completely. She sat and waited and watched. Nobody was coming to look at her dishes or cloths or the various necklaces she had for sale. She was okay with that. She was easy going most of the time. Her parents had died when she was young. They had been in a car accident. She was only a girl of ten then. Now she was twenty, and since she had survived that terrible time, there was not much that troubled her. At the night, after she had fed her brothers and grandmother, she walked to the shore and then sometimes sat on benches. There she often read because there were some lights to the back, closer to where the sand ended and some asphalt began. A paperback from her pocket was just the thing to take her away. To most, she was already in paradise, but she dreamed of other adventures, other lands. She had already explored all her home had to offer. Her paperbacks were sold in a little store where all the books were used. It was a place where tourists went to get something to read while they relaxed. The pages of all the books were old, and often seemed to smell salty. The one she was reading was about a detective from a metropolis who had to solve the murder of his best friend, while grieving for him at the same time. He was also falling in love with the murder victim's wife, and though he was innocent of the act of murder, others were beginning to talk about whether he could have been involved in his friend’s untimely demise. It was not even the story as much as the little parts here or there about the city that she soaked up. She had never been to a big city and longed to see what it was all about. She had become more and more certain that her destiny was linked to a big city. It had to be. She could just not yet figure out how. After she was done reading she headed home. She got a few stares from males every time, but was used to this. She was tall, pretty, and had a charisma. She did not fault them for being so obvious, but she was not interested in any of them. They were locals. Her man would be like a detective from one of her stories; wise, worldly, and on the go. He’d not notice her. He’d be busy. She would have to notice him, and get his attention. Of course she had no idea about when or how this would happen, but it had to. It had to. She could hardly bare to think of it not happening for her. This is what she often thought about before sleep, or in the day at her vendor’s table, where close by, there was a big shadow of a tree. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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