Just happy to be out with her old man
She hops around in pink plastic snow boots, her dark navy jacket unzipped; she hops, hoping to imitate the multi-colored plastic Slinky she lets drop from her hand, the coils undone as the toy expands.
Blond hair, like straw in the fall, is cut short, parted down the middle. A child’s skin in winter, white and healthy. Glowing, almost, with her exertion - her cheeks held the color of rose petals.
She hopped next to man – her father? – too young and scruffy, perhaps. She calls him dad. She asks. “Daddy, are we going to see a movie?”
He says nothing. He doesn’t look at her, acknowledge the question.
He paces. Patchwork beard, a olive watchcap that reigns in his shoulder-length, greasy hair. It’s got some curl to it, the color a nondescript brown. Unremarkable in every way.
Except that he oozes sullenness; almost a remorse.
He’s dressed in a military utility jacket, olive drab, with a blue-and-white scarf, obviously handmade. His hands remain buried in the front pockets of his faded jeans. He wears military-style boots, black.
She peppers him with questions, happily bouncing with the Slinky. He ignores her still, remains silent, watches the door of the theater almost anxiously.
He’s waiting for someone, something.
She’s buoyed to just be out, even if it’s this mall, older, filled more with offices than shops – and the dollar theater, where all seats are $3.


missalister said...

So sad to see a young life so hopeful, not fully in touch with being ignored and why. You build up the sweetness and let it fall so deftly : )