Street Photography

I see you looking, staring across the mall. Will you come over? Will you say hello to me?

People often stare at me. I am beautiful, in my own way, and nothing can ever take that away from me. Once, I was admired. I was a model—alright, only locally, but still, I had my fifteen minutes. Now, I am here. Every day is the same.

I see you looking, though you pretend not to. Are you embarrassed? You don’t need to be. It is I who feels the embarrassment. It is I who has fallen. My clothes, unfashionable now, were all the rage once. My hair… well, I try to comb it, but fingers only do so much.

The bruise? That’s my business, not yours.

I see you looking. Did you know I both hate and love you? I hate you because you don’t come over to me. I love you because it’s not your fault I’m here. I hate you because you will go home to your wife, your kids, your dinner, and your television. And me? Where I go isn’t any of your concern. That’s something we’ll keep a secret.

Did you know I had a job once? A husband? I drove a car. I had a dog, a garden, roses. But do you care? When you finally stop looking, you’ll turn away and forget me as though you’d never seen me. You’ll remember only an image of me.

I was a model once. People used to look at me with admiration. They would clap, toast to me. Now, they shoo me away.

I see you looking, through your lens this time, taking a shot so you can show others. You want them to feel pity for me, admiration for you.

I see you looking.

Views: 0

Please follow and like us: