I walked away
without a
sound.
I
even averted
eye contact before
getting up and
leaving to
make
a
call outside
around the corner.
Two French people
were sitting
at
a
table outside
so I returned
to bask in
their language.
When
they
left, she
came out. She
silently sits in
front of
me.
She
just clapped
her hands. She
knows I'm writing
about her.
She
can
feel my
auric interrogation. She's
wearing a green
barrette in
her
hair
which keeps
catching my eye.
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