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Oh, There He Is

by Lilian Welwood

          Oh, there he is. Smile. Hows my hair today? Dang it, I forgot mascara. That's fine, that's fine, it’s better to have the natural look anyway. Oh jeez, there he is. Is he looking? Don't look. He’ll notice. But is he looking? Within a second her whole left foot abruptly shifts forward in her shoe with a thud. A squeal as loud as a crashing car echoes in the room and all eyes are on her. The liquids, once safely held with styrofoam, are now all over the tiled floor. The cup makes a crunch as the ice shatters and scatters. It’s almost like the ice wanted to escape. Did they have to spread so far? As her head lifts, her view shifts now to everyone in the room. She notices his face. Blank. But staring in silence like everyone else. A hand comes to her view with some napkins. A “thank you” escapes her throat. She flusters to grab them. Uuuhhhh. Others are trying to walk. “So sorry… just be a moment… so sorry… excuse me” as she cowers over the ground to soak up the cherry cola. Her vision is impaired from all the nervous blinking. She’s not even sad but it’s like the repetition of “don’t turn red. Stop being weird. Don’t turn red. Eyes, don’t water” is just forcing the liquid to build up. He’s looking. Furious blinking is the only way to stop it from overflowing. He’s still looking. The heat she feels is shown across her whole face, from neck to the top of her forehead. She gets up. He’s still looking. The Coca-Cola is mostly gone. Clean enough to leave. She dissolves into the exciting crowd and is gone.

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