By the Window

What I admired most about her was the way she always sat by the window. She didn't hide from anybody. It would have been easier to hide.

I don't know what happened to her face. Traffic accident, maybe. Maybe some defective fireworks. An accident of some sort, surely. I'd hate to think somebody did that to her deliberately. Her left cheek and jaw were a mass of scars and oddly stretched, weirdly pale skin. Like the face of a porcelain doll that had been broken and badly repaired.

She'd come to the coffee shop two, three times a week. I assumed she was coming from the nearby hospital. Some sort of therapy maybe. She always sat alone, always. She kept her book in her fist and her eyes on her book. She didn't avoid eye contact, but she didn't shy away from it either.

I only knew her in a coffee shop sort of way. Which means I recognized her, but didn't know her name. I knew she liked to read science fiction, but didn't know where she worked or even if she worked. I knew she liked a venti caramel macchioto, but didn't know if she had...or had ever had...a boyfriend, a husband, a lover.

Sometimes she'd sit at a table near me and I could smell the light fragrance she wore. Sometimes, in fact, I'd be so focused on my laptop that I wouldn't even know she was there until I smelled her perfume. The scent seemed somehow too flowery for her, in her solid-colored crewneck sweaters, her khaki pants, her sensible sneakers. Her ruined face. At first I decided the scent was probably a Christmas gift from her mother. Then I changed my mind; it was too sad. A woman should never be given perfume by her mother.

A week must have gone by before I realized I hadn't seen her recently. Two weeks, three weeks. Now I find myself sitting more often by the window, looking for her. I've started reading science fiction and drinking caramel macchiotos.

I've decided she's finished her therapy. I've decided she's got a good job doing web design. I've decided she's found another window to sit by. I've decided she's happy.

posted by greg @ 5:53 PM