The Fall

10 Jan

People watched me.  I could feel their eyes and the under the breath sarcasm.  “What a disaster.  What a mess.”  those were the nicer things I imagined.  Were those words about the broken bag with it’s contents rolling about the sidewalk, or were they directed at me personally?  One could never really know.

I rolled onto my butt and sat up slowly,  taking a long hard look at the blood starting to rise to the surface on my scuffed knees.  God, you would think I was back in elementary school, falling in the playground, feeling the tears start to well up but being too scared to attract attention of the kids who would knowingly laugh and point.  What an embarrassment.  Even back then I could feel their eyes.

My nose was running now and I started to pick the gravel bits out of the palm of my hands before I began a search thru my pocketbook for what was sure to be a non-existent tissue or even a more imaginary wet-nap.  I was never prepared for anything.

The grocery bag was split down the side and thru the bottom so everything had busted, of course.  There was pickle juice and orange juice co-existing in what was surely to become a nasty tasting brew to the line of ants that was starting to head in my direction.  Did they stay constantly alert for any sign of a food source within their reach or was it just dumb luck that they happened to be marching by?  Gods plan perhaps or they were just watching too.  It made we wonder.

I didn’t dare look up as I didn’t want to see the faces.  Embarrassment could never be hid especially when one could feel the redness creeping up one’s neck.  The rosiness in my cheeks had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with my personal and ever present knowledge of all the inane things that I did on a daily basis.

Slowly I began to pick up the shards of glass, a stray olive here, a soggy loaf of bread there.  Of course no one bothered to help.  There were no volunteers, no voicing of concern.  Just their eyes, ever watching, ever condescending.

I slowly eased into a shaky but tolerable standing mode, smoothing my skirt and making a feeble attempt to tuck in my shirt. Desperate to display some sort of normalcy in my appearance so that the eyes would stop.  It was then that I realized, I was in the city.  The land where no ones cares or if they do, admittance is frowned upon.  There had been no need for my mortification, none what so ever.  None of this mattered as there were no eyes. No one watched…me.

Thinking Ten: Tuesday, Take it away: People watched me…



One response to “The Fall

  1. C.A. Chicoine

    March 16, 2017 at 6:07 pm

    Love the creative imagery used in this short story.


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