at the station, they approached her. asking her a question before she could
focus her mind on the girls' nervous smile and the boys' impressive photo-
equipment.
madame, please, may we ask you something? it is for the school paper.
she had to synchronize her brain-halves to hear them and she said so. which
instantly, made their eyes fearful and distrusting. we, uh...
how may I help you, she heard herself say. how good she felt about that,
being nice, and she watched their little fingers fumble with mike and cords.
mam, I hope your brain is settled now, the boy - with one eye, his other eye
was hidden behind the camera - said and he tilted his instrument and zoomed
in on her. he seemed serious.
she felt herself shift from her left leg to her right one, wishing she
had three legs, like the tripod that the one-eyed boy handled with such
great care.
we would like to know who you are waiting for, the girl asked. a bit too
loud. somehow, it sounded suggestive. as if a leading question was needed to
start her off on a life story.
people do that, she thought, giving air to total strangers, hanging their
lives on strings to be pulled by any passers by.
waiting, was that what she did? waiting is not my objective, she said. I
never wait.
their smiles froze. they shrunk. the tripod shrunk. the camera disappeared
and the boy had two eyes, not looking. they turned away without another
word. their backs told the story of defeat, while they stepped on her shadow
and left her the question
