Two tables away, sitting hunchback over a plastic cup filled with finger-friendly cantaloupe, she yells, “I said no,” into a pink cell phone ringing vigorously.
An icky gray sweatshirt clings to her breasts like a throaty cough. Fuzzy boots cover her feet. Tight corn rows line the top of her head. A cherry red scarf, wrapped around her neck, ties it all together.
“Heading out or just getting back?” I ask, watching her zip and tip a brown suitcase wheel-up.
She sighs. “Honestly, I have absolutely no idea.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Worse.” The suitcase wobbles like a drum roll.
Samuel Cole lives in Woodbury, MN. He loves to run, STEP, photograph bookmarks, hang with friends, boo bad movies, and of course, write. Check out his website: http://www.maneuverableword.com.