People Watching

She stared out the window watching passersby. Wondering where each one is headed. Her eyes follow a young man walking hurriedly whilst rummaging through his bag. He isn’t paying attention to what is in front of him and his arm aggressively makes contact with a lamp post. His face says it all – right in the funny bone. She can’t help but smirk. Sympathetic in a way, yet smug.

He looks around to see if anyone had seen his encounter, and makes eye contact with her. His eyes widen with embarrassment. She blushes, filling with guilt, hoping that he didn’t see the smile on her face.

As he continues on his way, she notices his path will cross hers. A panic sets in. Is he upset that she found amusement in his discomfort? She hopes he’s not a man of confrontation. She gets up, wanting to leave before he reaches her, but the gap quickly closes. He’s looking right at her and just passes by with a slight nod. Acknowledgement of a moment between them and the panic diminishes, just like that.



I’ve always wanted to be a storyteller. When I was younger I loved to write short stories with the most outrageous characters. Humour was my forte. But these days I don’t even have an imagination. Where did it all go? Did I lose it all or is my brain just blocking it from flowing? 

I have no idea what to do to get inspired. But I still dream of being a storyteller.