Four Strangers

Four Strangers (500Words, Round 3, Day 12, 2/27/18)

She was tall, taller than one expects from a woman, and didn’t apologize for it. She had high-heeled leather boots that commanded attention, even while she was seated. Her large mane of hair that went up before it fell down around her shoulders had silver streaks that were too perfectly intermittent to be anything other than natural. The glasses perched on her narrow nose had almost as much personality as she did. She wore a smart suit in grey over a bright yellow button-down shirt, and her perfectly fitted clothes draped off her body just so, clearly more expensive than was strictly necessary.

As if intended to be a study in opposites, the woman next to her was short, squat, and seemed to be trying to apologize for taking up any amount of space in the room. Though she was incredibly thin, she still tried hard to only use as much of her seat as was unavoidable. Crossing both her legs and her arms, she was small in every direction. Her clothes, however, seemed to have been borrowed from someone much larger and lacking any sense of style. Her sneakers were dirty, her jeans were about a decade out of style, and her sweatshirt looked like something a well-meaning grandmother had picked out.

Sitting across from the two woman was a man with a figurative cloud over his head. It was surrounding him fully and left his unshaven face heavy and his shoulders curled forward. His head was bald, shined to the point of reflection. He wore a big, puffy, green winter coat that, while it had seen better days, was still serviceable. It had a large golden lion emblazoned on the back of it, and one of the lion’s paws wrapped over his shoulder and was visible from the front.  His checkered pants gave away his profession, and his comfortable shoes gave away his work environment.

Behind him, just barely in the room, stood a young man. He was in constant, small, motion – shifting his weight, adjusting his bag, looking around. He was dressed, technically, though there wasn’t much fabric on him. A thin tank top, short shorts, short socks, minimalist shoes. His bare, tattooed arms with their riot of goosebumps gave away how cold he must have been. He did have a thick knit cap perched on top of his head. His thin, stringy hair dripped down from beneath the hat and covered his ears and much of his face.

The room, full of people, was almost completely silent.There were two doors in the room – one out to the hallway, and one into the judge’s chambers. Both stayed closed. Those who were sitting were still and made no sounds. The young man’s fidgeting and the clock on the wall were the only sources of noise.

Each person, so very different from the next, all had one thing in common. They each had a phone, and they were each fully attentive to it instead of to their companions in the room.



*This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons real or imagined is unintentional

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