A View From Afar (Part 2)

Carrie paused a moment, trying very hard not to loose her composure. She wipes her eyes with a napkin, then straightens her form out, sitting back further in her chair.

"I'm sorry".  A glint of embarrassment showed in her face.

"It's okay."  That all I could say, a little anxious about on how this was going. I put my open left hand, facing palm up, on the table. She placed her small hand in mine. She squeezed with a strength that surprised me, with all the power her small lithe frame could muster.

"I wasn't always like this, you know."  She said.  Her face seemed to show the frustration I know had to be there.

A View From Afar (Part 1)

One day, a few months back, I was getting my morning coffee at my favorite franchise. I always go inside to the counter. (I make sure they get it right, it has been made wrong a few times.)

As I walk toward the entrance, a woman that seemed to be about thirty years old approached me. She looked kept and clean, her clothes in good condition. She surprised me with her first words to me.

"Excuse me, sir.  Can you please spare some change to get a cup of coffee." I saw sadness in those intelligent brown eyes. They told me how difficult it was to ask for help.

Lighting It Up

A few days ago, a friend of mine was relating to me about a someone, in her own perception, who committed an act of rudeness toward her. This is an excerpt and I paraphrase her words to me, somewhat edited for language:

“I walk outside to to get a quick smoke.  I usually go into the corner of  the building away from everyone who might be bothered by it  because you can’t smoke anywhere now.”

“Here I am freezing my butt off, minding my own business.  There was this guy who kept staring at me.  I try to ignore him, but he kept doing it."